#i have to say praise to the set crew and the crew in charge of their clothes coz it's all A+++++

[wildrangers]

Hello i see you're accepting fic requests, i have a matt smith fic idea, can u do a behind the scenes w matt and fem!reader where they are both married in real life but they're rivals on cam, and when the scene cuts they're like all lovey dovey and their castmates are always teasing them 💟 tysmmm!!!

Thank you so much for this request anon, I loved this idea! I created an OC HOTD character for the reader to play and kind of worked her into different key moments from the show. I hope you enjoy 🙂

Tropes & Topics: total fluff

Word Count: 900

“What would you call the husband of the Queen?”

“Well, the king-”

“There it is, then.”

“...consort” 

Your eyes met Daemon’s, fury coursing through your veins. His head tilted, eyes assessing you. “That seems redundant, no?”

“I speak for the Queen when I say it is not.” 

There was a long pause as you two stared each other down before “CUT! Good work you two.”

“Darling! You were stupendous” Matt praised, walking towards you with his arms raised. Mostly joking groans sounded from the crew around you. “Oh, stop it you lot.”

“I always forget how angry you make me when you have that fucking wig on” you tease, wrapping your arms around his middle tightly. 

“I could say the same to you, my love” he chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your silver wig.

Your role on House of the Dragon was Anora, a close confidant and cousin of Rhaenyra. Given your character’s fierce loyalty to Rhaenyra, she shared a tense, often hostile, relationship with Daemon which you two delighted in playing as it was so opposed to your real-life dynamics as newlyweds. 

“Are you love birds ready for lunch now that you’ve terrorized the crew?” Emma’s voice called from behind Matt and you threw a grin their way. 

“Are they up to it again?” Harry seconded from behind them. 

“I don’t know what you’re referring to” you argued and Matt chuckled beside you, his arm resting along your shoulders as you followed the pair off the studio lot. 

“Oh, so you don’t remember the post-wedding incident?” Emma posed and you felt your face warm as the memory flooded your mind. 

“Wed?! Laenor has just died!” you shouted, whipping around to face your best friend and her apparent new husband. 

“No, cousin, he’s not dead. We arranged it so he could be free and we could marry” Rhaenyra explained and your eyes widened. 

“You let our monstrous uncle convince you of this?!” 

“Watch your tongue” Daemon replied, eyes blazing.

“Or what?” 

“Or I’ll take it.”

You took out the dagger you kept hidden on your side, “Well come on then, Daemon. You don’t frighten me.” 

“Enough!” Rhaenyra screamed, stepping between you both. “Cousin, this was my decision he forced me to do nothing. He wants to better support my claim to the throne when the time inevitably comes.” 

“He will be your ruin, Rhaenyra. Mark my words.”

“CUT! I think we got it guys, take five.” 

“My fierce wife!” Matt cheered, picking you up and swinging you around as you laughed. 

“Must you do this every take?” the director questioned, earning laughs from the cast and crew on set. 

“Am I wrong? She was incredible” he praised, placing you down and lovingly straightening the wig he’d disheveled in his excitement. 

“Yes, yes, your wife is brilliant and we’re all lucky to be graced with her presence” Emma teased and you stuck your tongue out at them. 

“The most brilliant one of us is you, my love” you tell him and are met with another chorus of groans as you giggle and squeeze his hand in yours.

“Oh! And you can’t forget the birthing scene from last season’s finale, that one was iconic.” Harry added and Emma eagerly nodded their agreement.

Rhaenyra wailed from the bedchamber behind you as you charged after Daemon. “What are you doing Daemon? She needs you!” 

“She needs someone to prepare for war, I can do nothing for her in that room.” 

“She’s calling for you Daemon, not me! She doesn’t want you to act on her behalf, just to be her husband.” 

“I am your king now!” he roared, turning around so quickly you slammed into his chest, his hands gripping your shoulders painfully to keep you upright.

“You overstep Daemon. You are no more than her king consort” you replied, adjusting your stance and fighting the wince of pain wracking your system.

Matt’s face completely broke, false anger draining from it, “Love, are you alright? I’m sorry everyone but she’s injured, we have to cut.” 

“Matt, it’s fine I could have finished the scene” you insisted but your argument fell flat as your ankle rolled out from beneath you. 

He didn’t hesitate, one arm gripping under your knees, the other under your arms to lift you off your feet. “Where’s the medic?!” 

“Matthew, it’s a twisted ankle, not a mortal wound” you assured but his face was panicked. “Hey, look at me” you said firmly, hand cupping his cheek. His hazel eyes met yours and you could see him fighting to control his fear that you were seriously injured. 

“I’m not putting you down until someone’s looked at your ankle” he insisted and you nodded your agreement. “I’m so, so sorry darling.”

“It was an accident, I’m fine, I promise” you replied, pulling his face down to yours for a brief kiss. 

“We have to release this as a blooper, the fans will eat it up!” you heard Emma call as Matt carried you off set towards the medic tent with the cameras still rolling.

“How could we forget? It went absolutely viral” Matt groaned and you laughed, pinching his side.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get charged with spousal abuse” you tease and he rolls his eyes as the others laugh. 

“Keep it going, I’ll just save up my annoyance with you for when we’re back on set.”

matt smith taglist: @slayraxes-blogs @littlehorrorlover

I'm always happy to hear any feedback, message me if you want to get added to the taglist! I have a few more asks waiting that will be out soon 🫶🏻

[honeytama]

Make Your Move - Chapter 2

Noah Sebastian x Reader x Matt Dierkes

Fic Masterlist

A/N: If you left a comment on Ch. 1, I love you so much <3 If you’d like to join the tag list, lmk!

Fic Summary: Having known Matt for a year already, he knows your talents and hires you as his assistant for Bad Omens' upcoming tour. You’ve had a crush on Matt, your friend, and now boss. However, his good friend and your celebrity crush, Noah, takes a liking to you the second you step through the door. What happens when your feelings develop? What happens when they find out? You only hope your heart doesn’t break trying to care for two others.

Content and Warnings for Ch. 2: Fluff, some smut 18+, stress/anxiety, alcohol, masturbation, praise kink, close proximity

Word Count: 3.4k

Tag List: @flowery-mess @abiomens @exitwoundsx @lma1986 @thatchickwiththecamera @narcissisticbehavior81 @xxkittenkissesxx @rain-down-on-me @doomhands-jr @justdamnpeachy (For tags that aren't working, I’ll try to put you in my replies)

The bus traveled for a day before it ended up at the tour’s first venue at dawn. The first bus sleep went smoother than expected as the morning wore you out.

You spent the extra travel time getting more familiar with the boys; chatting with them on the leather couches about their favorite music, hobbies, and their favorite foods. This was important as you were in charge of doing food runs and taking orders for dinners every show night.

The times you weren’t laughing it up with them or hanging out with Matt. You sat by the bus windows to focus on your many hobbies: crocheting, drawing, reading books, listening to music, and making playlists. It was surreal to watch the world whizz by as you sat alone in peace.

Although, you couldn’t help but feel an ache in your stomach thinking about your first show as assistant tour manager.

Matt was your friend, but now that you worked for him you felt as if you couldn’t talk to him about your anxiety about the first show.

For now, you brush those thoughts off your shoulders as you step off the bus into the alley behind the venue.

—

Nevertheless, the next sixteen hours gave you a headache. The guys helped you and the crew unload the trailers and help set up the stage for sound check by noon.

Matt set up the sound booth on his own in front of house, while you helped instruct the crew on how to set up the show production: confetti cannons, pyro, lighting, and video walls.

The guys did their sound check as you ran out to grab a small dinner for everyone. It was the easiest part of the day because they decided they wanted nuggets and fries.

By 6 pm, fans were entering the venue and patiently waiting for the opening band to perform.

Before and throughout the opener’s set, you were consistently running errands and making sure everything was set up perfectly for all the guys. However, every time you would try to catch Matt to ask him for help, he’d brush you off and say, “I know you’ve got this on your own. Don’t sweat it.”

Every. Time.

You loved him, but boy, was he going to hear it from you tonight.

How could he do this? The first night, even? You thought, angrily.

Luckily, the opener’s set went without a hitch and you felt somewhat proud.

Yet, the most unfortunate part of the night is the beginning of Bad Omens’ set. Being a fan for years, you had waited so long to watch them live, and you thought tonight would be even more special knowing how you affected their production. But, by the time the boys began Artificial Suicide, you feel a pain in your temple and a blanket of exhaustion drape over your body.

Side stage, you frown and make your way to the Bad Omens green room. You allow your body to rest and collapse onto the brown leather couch. The urge to allow your tears to fall and scream into the pillow is severe, but you hold it back.

I’ll get to see them tomorrow, you repeatedly think like a mantra as you close your eyes and fall asleep.

—

“Y/N?” Your name sounds like a whisper in your dream.

“Y/N, wake up, it’s time to go,” Noah says softly.

Your eyes slowly open. He stands beside the couch and your lying body with a folded towel and clothes in his hands. His hair is wet with sweat and his chest glistening in his black tank.

“Oh, my God. Noah,” you frown, “I’m so sorry.” You sit up and rub your eyes.

“What for?” he asks, concerned.

“I missed your set! It’s the first show and I missed it,” you cry out with your hands covering your face.

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s okay. You’ll get to see us tomorrow,” Noah says soothingly.

“I would’ve taken a nap too, Y/N, today felt so long,” Jolly says from behind him.

“See? No worries. Did you get some good rest at least?” Noah asks genuinely.

“Yeah, I think I feel better,” you stand up and stretch your back.

“Well, that’s good,” he smiles, “because we’re going to have a little post-first show celebration if you’re interested?”

Your heart flutters at his invitation. “That sounds nice. I’m down.”

“It won’t be much, but we want to wind down before going to bed,” he explains. “We’re all going to go get showered and meet you on the bus in fifteen, sounds good?”

“Yeah, I might as well change into my pajamas while you guys are cleaning up,” you suggest.

Noah nods and you follow them out of the room to walk towards the back door of the venue. It’s dark out now and you can see some fans still trickling out of the venue as you walk to the bus.

Once inside, you run into Matt getting undressed to his underwear. You knew he never liked sleeping with clothes on, but the sight still made your thighs clench.

“Matt, can we talk?” You ask cautiously.

“Hey, sleepy,” Matt teases. “Could we in the morning? I’m drained,” he climbs into his bunk.

“Sure,” you yield. “Goodnight, Matt.”

“Night night,” he says, closing the curtain.

Tonight felt like such a bummer, but you wouldn't let it keep you down. In the small pile of clothes in your bunk, you choose a cute pair of pajamas to wear for the impromptu “celebration”. There are cute, sexy clothes even, that you brought just in case, but Noah didn't seem to care that you wanted to feel more comfortable this evening. You felt confident there would be at least one night on tour that you could whip out the mini skirt, but tonight isn't it.

Once dressed, you waited at the dining table at the front of the bus to scroll through your phone. Your leg bounced up and down as you considered opening Twitter to read the responses from fans for tonight’s show. Nonetheless, you thought it best to wait until the morning after talking with Matt.

“Who’s ready to drink?” Folio sings as the bus door is pulled open.

You laugh as he realizes only you and a sleeping Dierkes are aboard.

“They’re still showering?” He asks you, whining.

“I’m down to do a shot with you,” you suggest. “I need it after today.”

“I’m not a big fan of shots, but let’s do it,” he shrugs.

Folio walks over to the cabinet above the sink and grabs the bottle of Tito’s. The fridge below him is opened afterward and he pulls out a can of Sprite and a beer.

“So, how are we celebrating tonight?” You ask as he gets comfortable in the seat across from you.

“Literally just chatting and drinks,” he shrugs, smiling. “We’re pretty lame. None of us are really party guys, but I like to get down from time to time,” he pops open the bottle of Tito’s and pours shots into plastic cups for you and himself. He cracks open a can of Sprite, too. “You wanna share?”

“Sure,” you giggle. You take your cup in hand as you hear the latch of the door click open.

Jolly and Nick enter with their hair wrapped up in towels and Noah has his towel draped over his shoulder.

“Folio,” you say, raising your cup to his eye level, “Arriba.”

“Arriba?” he repeats, holding up his cup.

“Abajo,” you bring the cup to the table with a soft thud.

“Abajo,” he follows suit.

“Al centro,” you say, putting the cup in the middle of the table to encourage him to cheers you.

“Al centro,” he cheers you with a toothy smile.

“Pa' dentro!” You throw your cup back and gulp down the vodka with your eyes shut tight. Before Folio realizes, you grab the can of Sprite to chase down the bitter taste in your mouth.

“Pa' dentro!” He downs his shot and smacks the table with his fist. “Hey, give me that shit!” Folio sputters reaching for the can.

You throw your head back and laugh as Folio gulps down half the can of Sprite before you.

“You two having fun?” Jolly smiles while taking his hair down from the towel.

“So much fun,” Folio coughs. “You want one?” He raises the Tito’s bottle to Jolly.

“I’ll stick with the beer,” Jolly replies before heading toward the bus restroom.

“Same,” Nick adds and takes a seat across from Folio on the opposite wall of the bus on the long, black couch.

Noah, who’s now wearing Bad Omens joggers and an oversized white t-shirt, takes a seat next to Nick.

“Are those your pajamas, Noah? Those pants look so comfy,” you gush.

“Actually,” he laughs, “I usually just sleep in my underwear.” His cheeks turn the familiar shade of pink you witnessed just days before. “But for this tour, I thought I should cover up to show some respect to you as our guest,” he smiles.

“Oh! I don’t mind—,” you start, but you cut off when you see Folio and Nick’s lips turn up into shit-eating grins. “I mean,” you begin again, “Matt always sleeps naked when he sleeps over at my place, so I know, you know…” You wave your hands around the front of your shorts.

“She wants you to take your pants off, Noah,” Nick says, bluntly.

“Nick,” Noah and you groan before making eye contact, luckily you both can laugh it off.

Folio passes out beer to Nick, and to Jolly when he returns. You spend the next hour talking and laughing together while drinking, but Noah chooses to stay sober. You have about two and a half shots total— the other half of your shot being downed by Folio for you.

Through the hour, you couldn’t help but notice Noah talking with his hands and then brushing through his drying hair. His smile, which made you watch his lips when he talked, and his laugh, which sounded like a song. Every moment you spent around him, you grew more infatuated.

Nick checks the time, “I think it’s time for me to head to bed.”

“Yeah,” Jolly said, standing from his seat. “Folio, you coming?”

“Sure, I'll hit the hay,” he says. “Goodnight you two.” The three men follow each other to their bunks and head to sleep.

You twiddle your thumbs as you’re left alone with Noah at the front of the bus.

“You're not tired?” He asks you.

“I just took a two-hour-long nap,” you laugh, slightly embarrassed.

“Makes sense,” he shrugs.

“You?” You ask back.

“My adrenaline from the show makes it hard to sleep sometimes,” he responds. “I’ll go to sleep when you do.”

“Nice,” you reply and the conversation trails off again.

Noah clears his throat, “The show was great, by the way.”

You look up to meet his eyes, “It was?”

“Everything went off without a hitch. I don’t mean to do it, but I checked Twitter after my shower. Everyone gave us high praise. I just wish you could’ve seen it yourself,” he smiles.

“I didn’t even know you still had the app downloaded,” you say, surprised.

“I rarely do it,” Noah says. “I just thought you would want to know. I checked for you.”

“Thanks,” you smile and absentmindedly kick your legs. “It’s crazy being on this bus with you guys, by the way,” you admit. “I feel like I need to pinch myself to make sure it’s real.”

“Trust me, it’s real,” he laughs. “You deserve to be here. Matt, me and you, we made this thing happen,” he opens his arms to the air.

“I hope it’s not weird for you that I’m a fan,” you say cautiously.

“No, I think it makes things interesting,” he smirks.

You nearly choke and your face burns at his remark. “You know what? I think I’m ready for bed,” you sell it with a fake yawn and stand from the couch.

“Of course,” he gets up and suddenly you're standing right in front of him. Noah stands nearly a foot taller than you and he looks down at you with darkness in his eyes.

You give him a sheepish smile and turn to walk to the bunks.

You feel Noah’s warmth as he follows closely behind. His eyes feel like lasers on your legs as you climb up to your bunk.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Noah says softly.

“Goodnight, Noah,” you give him one final smile before quickly closing your bunk’s curtain.

How the fuck were you supposed to last a month around him? You think, shutting your eyes.

—

The next morning, Folio and you eat cereal across one another at the dining table. You had a restful night's sleep as the bus stayed stagnant to play a second show at the same venue from the night before.

“Mornin’, Folio,” you hear Matt’s voice come up from the bunk section of the bus. He walks up to you ready for the day in a new set of clothes and his charming Bad Omens baseball cap, as usual. “Y/N, can we talk?” he asks, cautiously, just like you asked last night.

You swallow your pride in wanting to respond like a brat and just nod.

Matt has you follow him outside to the side of the bus. “Will you go on a walk with me?”

You nod again and walk beside him around the perimeter of the venue.

“So, for starters, Y/N, I’m sorry,” he says.

“Matt,” you try to interrupt.

“Genuinely, you don’t deserve to be treated like I did to you yesterday,” he continues with a hand on his chest. “I was an asshole and I left you hanging on your first day on the job,” he admits.

“Thank you for saying sorry,” you say quietly.

“I think I had a bit of nerves for the first show but, that doesn't matter,” he admits. “If it's any consolation, I meant what I said. ‘I know you've got this on your own.’ I believe in you and you did it like I knew you would. You helped put on a banger of a show last night,” he shrugs his shoulders.

You laugh softly, amused by his rare moment of openness. “You’re such a sweetie,” you teasingly pull at his shirt.

“Blegh, yeah, yeah,” he shoves your hand away. “So, today, I was thinking I could help you throughout all your tasks today. I’ll be by your side the entire time. I’ll even go with you to pick up dinner,” he assures. “Then later tonight, for Bad Omens’ set, come and hang out with me in the sound deck?”

“Oh!” Your cheeks flush. “Thank you, I would love that,” you smile.

“Great,” he breathes out and his shoulders relax. “Let’s get today started.”

–

Matt stuck to his promise and this evening felt so much more nice. He took a Lyft with you to pick up Mexican food and just followed you around to all the different tasks you needed to get done before Bad Omen’s set. You felt like a badass stomping around the venue with him by your side. Both of you with walkie-talkies on your hips and facilitating the crew.

When he wasn't looking, you’d smile up at him and imagine a life where you two were doing this together, always. You daydreamed about being another power couple in the metalcore music industry.

Fifteen minutes before Bad Omens’ set, you stepped into the fenced-off section of the sound deck. You watch as he finalizes his setup as you sit in the fold-out chair he set up just for you.

“Now, we wait,” he says, sitting next to you.

“Matt, would it be unprofessional if I just screamed all the words to their songs?” You ask him, holding in your excitement.

“As your friend, I will silently judge you,” he laughs. “As your boss… just don't scream in my ear, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod vigorously.

The two of you chat until Matt gives the signal for you to stand. You fight the urge to bounce on your toes during the intro to Artificial Suicide, but it happens anyway.

Once the song starts, the crowd fades away, leaving just you and the music.

You jump, sing, and dance throughout the show while also sneaking glances over at Matt working. If there was one other person to run through the setlist as much as Noah and Matt, it was you. Matt times the pyrotechnic and CO2 cannon cues perfectly; the same cues you noted for him during rehearsals. The confetti cannons went off on time and you watched as other fans grabbed at the air for a souvenir. Lastly, the lighting and video looked spectacular; you held your hands to your chest in awe at some moments, and at other times you could feel tears well up in your eyes.

Then, there was Noah. His performance is unmatched. Goosebumps raised on your arms and neck when he screamed, gave clean vocals, and pretty much everything else he did. You couldn’t help but blush watching him flex his biceps with a mic in his hand once he was down to his tank top.

As you reach the end of their last song, Dethrone, Matt turns to try to say something to you.

“I can't hear you,” you yell over the music.

He tries to repeat himself, but gives up and steps into your space. With his chest right up against your shoulder, he leans in close to your ear, and says, “Look how fucking good you did. I’m so proud of you.”

“What?” You say, not that you couldn’t hear him, rather he shocked you dumb. A lightning bolt formed in your stomach and shot straight in between your thighs.

Matt brushes your hair and tucks it behind your ear, “I’m so glad you're here as my assistant. You’re doing so well for me.”

—

Later that night, you lie awake, tossing and turning in bed thinking about Matt’s words.

“Look how fucking good you did.”

“You’re doing so well for me.”

Even though Matt made it his life’s purpose to make you squirm with his constant flirtations, you doubted him to know that these words would affect you in this way.

Fuck Matt. Fuck him for praising me after he was a jerk for a day. Fuck him for making me squirm under his touch. Fuck his no masturbation bus rule, you think.

I want to fuck him.

Frustrated, you pull your sleep shorts to your ankles, careful not to mess with the curtain separating you from Noah’s bunk.

With one hand, your fingers rub your clit in circles over your panties, while your other hand squeezes your breast.

You softly close your eyes, and touch yourself to your imagination:

“My good little assistant,” Matt cooes. “When are you going to let me use your toys on you? I know they’re in your bag.”

Your fingers clasp your nipples roughly while you adjust your other hand to move your panties to the side. You gather your arousal and trace rings around your pussy in relief.

“Matt,” a familiar voice overtakes your imagination. “You meant us, right?” Noah comes into view.

“Noah,” you silently moan. Why’d he have to make things so complicated? You think.

“Complicated?” He scoffs. “I’m just here to make things interesting,” Noah says darkly, taking the palm vibrator from Matt and buzzing it on. He brings it to your clit as Matt presses the head of your dildo into your needy hole.

On accident, you let out a squeak, and your hand shoots from your breast to your mouth to cover it. Scared of them hearing you, you resistantly remove your fingers from yourself and pull your shorts back on.

You roll your eyes, frustrated still, and flip onto your side to try to sleep, hoping the Sandman will at least grant you a wet dream tonight.

[louisupdates]

The Habit He Can’t Break 3/4

IQ 123 | Gordon Masson | 9.11.2023

We Made It

Making sure that the Faith in the Future tour delivers Tomlinson to his growing legion of fans, PM Sherwood’s first long association with the artist manager, Vines made him the obvious choice when the artist first began his solo career.

“I remember doing a lot of promo dates around the UK and US before we started touring properly,” says Sherwood of his work with Tomlinson. “In fact, one of the first shows I remember doing with Louis was in Madrid when he played in a stadium, and I could see it was a taste of things to come.”

The partnership between Sherwood and Vines is crucial. 

“In terms of the show growing, our biggest challenge is keeping costs down, because we’re extremely cautious on ticket pricing,” says Vines. “We don’t do dynamic pricing, we don’t do platinum ticketing, we don’t do paid VIPs, we don’t increase ticket prices on aisle seats – all those tricks that everyone does that most fans don’t know about: we don’t do any of those.”

“So, when it comes to the production side of things, we need to be incredibly careful. But I’ve been working with Craig for a decade, and he knows the importance of trying to keep costs as low as possible. For instance, we’ll run the show virtually a number of times, so Louis can watch it with the show designer, Tom Taylor, make comments and tweak things. Then we’ll go into pre-production. But we try to do as much in virtual reality as possible before we take it into the physical world.”

Sherwood states, “Basically we started out with two or three trucks, but now we’re up to nine, and things seem to be getting bigger day by day.”

Thankfully, Sherwood has amassed a vastly experienced crew over the years, allowing them to handle even the most unexpected scenarios. “I’ve been touring since the dawn of time, but the core crew I work with now has been together since about 2010, and I trust them implicitly, so I’ll leave it up to them who they hire, as long as they think I’m going to like them, and they all get along with everyone. So far, it has worked well,” Sherwood reports.

And the veteran crew has dealt with some terrifying weather extremes on the current tour, including a show at Red Rocks in Colorado, where the audience were subjected to a freak, storm with golf ball-sized hail stones injuring dozens of people. 

Elsewhere, the crew has had to act quickly when the threat of high winds in Nashville caused problems on that outdoor run. “We didn’t want the video screens blowing about above the heads of the band, so it must have been amusing for the audience to see us taking them down,” Sherwood reports. 

Indoors in Europe, the environment has been more controllable. The production itself involves an A-stage set 180° across the barricades, although Sherwood says that on occasion, a catwalk is also used by the perimeters. 

“It’s a great lighting show and fantastic for audio, as we have phenomenal front-of-house sound engineer – John Delf, from Edge Studios – who makes life very easy for the rest of us,” says Sherwood. He also namechecks Barrie Pitt (monitor engineer), Oli Crump (audio system designer), Tom Taylor (lighting designer), Sam Kenyon (lighting technical director), and Torin Arnold (stage manager), while he praises Solo-Tech for supplying the sound, and Colour Sound Experiment (CSF) for taking charge of lighting, video, and rigging equipment.

Indeed CSE has 10 personnel out with the Faith in the Future tour. “We have eight screens on the road – six on stage plus two IMAGS that we use wherever appropriate, the company’s Haydn Cruikshank tells IQ.

“We need to tweak the rigging on a daily basis, as we move to different venues, but other than that, it’s a fairly smooth process thanks to Craig Sherwood. He is old school and planned and worked on the production very far in advance, which is a great scenario for all involved. Craig is definitely one of our favorite production managers to work with.”

Garry Lewis at bussing contractors Beat The Street is also a fan of PM Sherwood.

“Craig split the European tour into different runs. So, from Hamburg to Zürich, we had two super high decker 12-berth buses for the tour party and two 16-berth double-deckers for the crew,” says Lewis. “After the show in Athens, we still have the two super high-deckers, as Louis knew them – he prefers to spend time on the bus, rather than in hotels – but we also have two 12-berth super high-deckers for the crew, as well as another crew 16-berth double-decker.”

Lewis continues, “We’ve worked with Craig for a good few years, and we have a great relationship with him. He plans everything way in advance, so it means it’s all very straightforward for us with no issues. So, we use single drivers for each bus, except on the longer runs, or when our drivers are scheduled for prolong breaks, and then we’ll fly an extra drivers as needed.”

1/4, 2/4, 4/4

[thus-spoke-lo]

Like Alcohol Vapors || Roronoa Zoro x gn!reader || SFW

Summary: Another night of fun, another night of looking after a drunken, rambling Zoro. His intoxicated confession leaves you confused and your heart aching, but what are you to do when you know everything will be forgotten? CW: angst, alcohol/drunkenness WC: 2.4k Read on AO3

“I love you.”

You looked up at Zoro from your spot on the bench, setting your book down beside you. He was standing in the middle of the room, slightly swaying, a brown bottle of something or other in his hand that you didn’t remember seeing him carry up with him.

You’d been the last of the crew to wander back to the ship after a raucous night at some little saloon in town, practically having to drag Zoro out the door as he draped himself over you, lavishing you with praise for always being such a good shipmate, for always being there for him, for always trying to keep him from getting lost. You nodded and smiled as you did every time, letting out the occasional “Oh? Mm-hmm” to keep him focused on you, wrapping one arm around his lithe waist and guiding him back to the Sunny.

Given his state this evening, you truly weren’t sure how he managed to climb up into the crow’s nest on his own, let alone where he got the bottle of booze from—you hadn’t let him out of your sight that long when you got back, just enough to catch your breath and take a moment to stare out at the stars glittering on the water, and wonder what the hell you were thinking doing this again.

“Well that’s certainly a new one,” you sighed, cocking your head at him. “Knock it off, Zoro, you’re drunk.”

“M’not that drunk,” he mumbled, taking a healthy swig from the bottle, “and I. Love. You.”

You rolled your eyes. “You are absolutely drunk. And stop saying that, you sound absurd.” “What?” he shrugged, head lolling to one side. “It’s true, I do.”

“Sure you do. And you love Chopper, and Luffy, and Usopp, and Sanji—“

“Hey.” He paused, pointing hard at the air in front of him. “I don’t love that damn cook.”

“Okay, well you get what I mean,” you replied, rubbing your temples. “We all love each other in our own ways.”

“No. No, no, no, not like that.” He slowly made his way over to you, one foot carefully placed in front of the other. He positioned a wide hand on either side of your thighs and leaned down into you, his nose nearly pressed against yours, the smell of liquor heavy on his breath, his words hot as he spit them at you. “I love you.”

“You don’t love me, Zoro,” you said, placing your palm on his forehead and gently pushing him away from you until he fell backwards, landing with a thud on the hardwood floor. You hated it when he got this close to you, hated how even though he was stinking drunk and uttering nonsense, you still wanted to kiss him on his stupid, deceitful mouth.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair that he latched onto you like a barnacle when he was drunk. It wasn’t fair that Nami thought it was utterly hilarious how he’d follow you like your shadow, and assigned you to be the unofficial Zoro-sitter, in charge of making sure he didn’t wander off and get lost when you had fun in new towns, and make sure he didn’t do anything particularly destructive or stupid when you were having a raucous night on the ship. It wasn’t fair that as the nights would wind down you’d inevitably end up pressed together in a booth in some tavern, or laying on the deck of the ship, or sitting in the dark in the crow’s nest, while he rambled unintelligibly about how sweet you were to him, or how he adored the way your face looked in the moonlight, or how he wished you’d stay by his side forever and ever, the night always ending with his head in your lap or on your shoulder as he snored.

By the next morning, he’d awaken as if nothing happened and offer you his thanks and maybe a half-smile, as if he hadn’t spent the night pulling at your heart like saltwater taffy.

This was your punishment, you thought, your burden to bear for joining the crew and finding yourself irrevocably smitten with the swordsman from the moment you saw him. This was your personal hell, to have him say every word you wanted to hear, but to know he was too intoxicated to mean it, and that the words would be burned away with the light of the morning sun.

He picked himself up and knelt down next to you on the floor, staring up at you with narrowed eyes. “So what if I do love you? Huh?”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Zoro.” The words caught in your throat, choked you.

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” he grumbled, punctuating each word with a finger-poke to your thigh. “I’ve loved you forever.”

You stared down at him with a raised eyebrow. “Forever?”

“Yeah, forever,” he hiccuped. “Loved you since Luffy said you were comin’ with us.”

“Why do you love me, then?” you asked quietly. It couldn’t hurt any worse to indulge yourself, just this once.

“Hmm.” He glanced up at the ceiling. “Lots of reasons. You’re pretty. You take care of me. You’re helpful ‘round here.”

“Is that all it takes to love someone?” you asked, settling your chin in your hand, your elbow resting on your knee. “That they’re good-looking and do things for other people?”

“That’s not all,” he sighed, “that’s just a start. M’head hurts if I think of all the reasons I love you right now. But.” He stopped, tilted his head back and shook out the last few drops of amber liquid onto his tongue before continuing. “But I do know I wanna kiss you, and I wanna hold you, and I wanna keep you safe. That’s love, isn’t it?”

Sure sounds like it to me, you thought as your face burned hot and the sound of your own quickening pulse flooded your ears. Why couldn’t it be like this when he was sober, you asked yourself as your elbow pressed into your knee so hard you could already tell you’d have a bruise the next day. Maybe it could be—if only you had the strength to say something, anything, to him as you stood next to each other and leaned on the railing of the ship in the evenings, forearms so close you could feel the heat radiating from his tanned skin, watching the sunset paint the sky in tangerines and fuchsias. If only you could force yourself to ask him if he meant it when he told you your eyes sparkled like the stars, when he told you that you meant the world to him, when he told you he’d do anything to keep you safe—if the words that spilled from his mouth like whiskey from a bottle were as true in the morning as they were in the middle of the night.

“You’re ridiculous, Zoro,” you finally said, forcing a chuckle and a strained smile.

He plunked himself down cross-legged on the floor in front of you, his eyes blinking slowly and at slightly different intervals, one just a few milliseconds behind the other. There was a softness in his expression you rarely saw, one that sometimes you caught when he glanced at you across the dinner table, or when you found yourself lost in laughter with the rest of the crew. Sometimes you liked to think that he saved it only for you—that whatever special warmth he held inside of him, the one coated in glimmering steel most of the time, belonged to you and you alone.

If only you were a little less guarded, a little less jaded, a little less used to disappointment, maybe you’d be suckered in by him tonight, give in to his ramblings. Maybe you’d let him lavish you in declarations of affection, let the words drip from his mouth and cover you like honey, sticky and sweet on your skin. Maybe you’d even let him creep closer and closer to you until your bodies were pressed together, feel him breathe heavy against you and wrap a muscular arm around your waist, and before you can even think another thought, maybe his mouth would be on yours, hard and fast, his tongue pushing past your parted lips, filling your mouth with the sugary vapors of the rum on his breath.

If only you didn’t know better. If only you could let yourself humor his drunken confessions and not worry about how utterly empty you would be in the morning once the memories dissipated from his mind like smoke.

“You know what I think?” he whispered, just loud enough to pull you out of your muddled thoughts.

“What’s that?” you asked, leaning down towards him.

He paused, so long you started to wonder if he even remembered what he meant to say, then finally uttered in a hushed voice: “I think you love me too.”

“Okay, now you’re being out of line.” You leaned back in your seat, quickly crossing your arms across your chest.

“So you’re telling me you don’t?”

You stood up and started to walk across the room, wanting to be as far away from him as you could be at the moment, wanting to wordlessly climb down from the crow’s nest and fling yourself into the ocean. “Of course not. I mean, I like you. In the way I like everyone.”

“You’re lying,” he slurred, sloppily grasping at your ankle to stop you from walking away. “You love me, and I love you, and that’s all there is to it.”

“It’s that simple, huh?” you asked, looking down at him, feeling the warmth of his fingers on your exposed skin.

“Yup,” he grinned. “It’s that simple.”

You shook free of his lazy grip and walked to the other side of the room, your head full of angry bees, and focused on dragging one of the foam exercise mats against the wall to create a makeshift bed.

“You should lie down, you’re tired,” you said with a tight-lipped smile, patting the mat next to you as you settled against the wall with your legs stretched out in front of you. You could do it, you knew you could; you could swallow it all down, shove it back where it came from, keep your feelings tucked away a little longer even though it felt like it was going to crush you one of these nights.

“Fine.” He crawled over to you on hands and knees, collapsing next to you and resting his head on your thigh.

You ran your fingers delicately through his hair, memorizing the way it felt in your hand, soft, mossy-green pieces settling against your palm. You loved him like this, settled and quiet, head pressed into the softness of your lap. You loved him drunk and stupid, singing along with the crew as Brook commandeered a piano and entertained the tavern with a song. You loved him sober and subdued, his arms crossed in front of his muscled chest, as he quietly took in everything around him. You loved him when his blades and body became like one solid piece of steel, and you loved him when he was bruised and bloodied afterwards.

You loved Zoro all the time. And if ever there were a time to tell him, it may as well be when he’d never remember.

“I love you, Zoro,” you whispered as you ran your fingers down his bicep, tracing the pattern of his veins.

“I know you do,” he responded without opening his eyes.

You clenched your eyes and sighed, sure you’d left enough time to let him pass out before you spoke. “Whatever. It’s not like it matters anyway, you’re just gonna forget it in the morning like you always do.”

“No I won’t,” he said, sitting up, a tinge of desperation in his voice. “I won’t forget. I’ll tell you I love you again tomorrow. And the next day, and the next day, and the next day. I’ll tell you I love you as long as I can.”

“Sure you will,” you murmured, feeling that crushing in your chest and swirling in your stomach. “And what if I do?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I’ll—I’ll eat Luffy’s hat.”

“You should pick something else, he loves that damn hat too much.”

You turned your head away from him, settling your gaze on the dim light of the moon filtering through the window. “Well I don’t have to worry about it happening, so...”

“You’re just so sure of everything, huh?” he griped.

You quickly turned back to glare at him, eyes narrowed, jaw set. “I’m sure about some things.”

“Then why can’t you be sure I love you?” he said, his voice unsteady, as he reached over and settled a large hand on the side of your face and stroked your cheek with his thumb.  

“You should get some sleep,” you said, placing your hand over his, hating how warm he was, hating how you wanted to hold his hand there for the rest of the night. “We have to go back into town tomorrow for supplies.”

He stared at you for a moment longer, his eyes trained on you in a way that unsettled you, made the knot in your stomach grow larger and your heart thump so hard you were afraid it would burst through your ribcage. There was that softness in his expression again, the one you wanted tuck in your pocket to keep only for you.

“Fine,” he drowsily agreed, pulling his hand away from your cheek slowly, caressing your jaw with calloused fingers, before flopping back down into your lap. “I’ll sleep. That way it’ll be mornin’ sooner and I can tell you I love you again.”

“Goodnight, Zoro.” You hoped he couldn’t hear the crack in your voice. At least his eyes were closed so he wouldn’t see the tears starting to well in the corners of your eyes.

You leaned your head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling for a while, counting the knots in the wood and listening to him breathe, deeply and evenly with a soft snore every now and again, a lullaby you’d grown accustomed to. It would be light outside in a few hours, and the words would burn off like alcohol vapors, as they always did, and you’d be left hollow and wanting.

But still—you wondered how straw and ribbon might taste.

[loverrofmineee]

The Parting Glass - Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal x OC

AO3 | Summary | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Chapter 3- You Deserve It

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The past three weeks had not been kind to those at Thorpe Abbotts. Crews were going down left and right, and to top it all off, a crew had crashed during a test practice. Morale was low on base, and Bucky deemed that the remaining crews, alongside the women of the base, should all go out for a night at the local pub.

As the girls got ready, each one had a job to do. Anika was in charge of painting nails with clean coats of Victory Red, due to her perfectionism. Lilibet was helping each girl with makeup, helping to ensure their red lipstick would be smudge-proof for the evening ahead. Shiv provided the girls with sips of alcohol that had been swiped from the bar, and Aileen was doing her best to set the tone for the night. Sorcha had been tasked with doing each of the women’s hair, pushing aside each girl's complaint of her being too forceful.

“Ouch!” Aileen cried from her seat on Sorcha’s bed, “Why do you always have to be on hair?”

“You asked me to! And unfortunately, beauty is pain, love.”

Aileen sighed in agreement to her response, shifting the conversation so that she wouldn’t be focused on how much pain her head was in, “I’m going to dance with a man tonight.”

“Let me guess,” Shiv started, seemingly knowing how the conversation would go, “That man would be Egan?”

“No,” Aileen stated, causing the girls to gasp, “I’m done with him. There’s no point in chasing after a man when there’s so many available.”

Sorcha smiled at her friend's words, feeling a mixture of pride and sympathy. As much as she wanted the Major and Aileen to get together, there was only so much she could do. Aileen was right in her own way, seeing as there were dozens of men who would fall at her feet if she so much as smiled at them.

“Anika would know something about that, wouldn’t she?” Lilibet teased. Anika let out a noise of shock before launching her pillow at the girl. Harmonious laughter sounded from the chorus of girls, each reveling in the harmless teasing of the others. A sense of peace washed over Sorcha as she looked upon her friends. For a moment she forgot that they were all stationed on a military base, miles from home. The atmosphere of the hut felt like one of a college dorm, with girls giggling over boys they liked, sneaking sips of alcohol, all while getting ready for the night.

“Okay,” Shiv spoke, grabbing the girls' attention, “So we know Anika has DeMarco, Aileen will find whoever, and Lilibet has her boy at home. That leaves you and me, Devs.”

Sorcha was fast to shake her head at Shiv’s words, “Absolutely not. I have no interest in falling for anyone right now.”

The girls let out various sounds of protest at their friend's words. Each one of them wanted to see their friend appreciated as she should be. Sorcha was not one to discuss her dating history, firmly stuck in the belief that the past should remain in the past, and that there was no need to rehash what happened years ago. Still, her friends attempted to bring the topic of romance up when they felt it was necessary.

“There’s no point in changing my mind girls.” Sorcha stated as she finished up Aileen's hair, “Oh don’t you look gorgeous!” Aileen spun herself around, letting the girls shower her with praise as she giggled.

“Yes, yes, we all look gorgeous. But could we get going now? I don’t want to miss all the fun.”

“Ma’am yes ma’am. Anything you say, Major Shiv.” teased Anika, giving the girl a military salute and walking towards the door in a march. Aileen was quick to follow the girl, her giggles continuing as the group headed towards the door. Lilibet stood beside Sorcha, linking their arms as they stepped out into the darkness of the evening.

“They’re going to be a lot to handle tonight, aren’t they?”

“When are they not Lils?”

—-----------------------------------------—

The pub was bursting with energy when the women arrived, the sound of music combined with lively conversations was enough to make Sorcha burst from happiness. This atmosphere reminded Sorcha of home, as her parents would take their family to local pubs, eager to engage with fellow Irish immigrants in the community. Sorcha had learned to dance by the age of 3 and could list off the names of countless drinks by 8. Some would look at her upbringing and believe she was a walking stereotype, but Sorcha took it with pride, not being ashamed of how she was raised.

As soon as the girls stepped foot in the building, John Egan was there to greet them. The man stumbled on his way over, but still exuded charm, “There’s my girls! We’ve been waiting up for ya.”

“Clearly not long enough,” Shiv stated as she gazed at the Major, unimpressed.

“You wound me, Shiv, you really do.” Bucky clutched his heart, exaggerating the effect the words had on him. Still unimpressed and unenthused by the Major, Shiv grabbed Aileen and Anika and moved towards the bar, leaving Lilibet and Sorcha on their own.

“She doesn’t like me,” Egan said as he turned to the women in front of him.

“No, she does not.”

“I love how you sugarcoat things for me Devs. Really makes a man feel good about himself.”

“If you wanted to feel good about yourself, you wouldn’t keep me around.”

Bucky chuckled as he took in Sorcha’s words, leaving the conversation as he pursued a new target. Lilibet looped her arm through Sorcha’s as she led them to the bar. Once they arrived, they could see Anika chatting with DeMarco, and a few feet away Shiv and Aileen were looking for a suitable candidate to be Aileen’s next match. A soft smile fell upon Sorcha’s lips as she watched the scenes around her. There were a few times she felt at peace during the war, and seeing her friends happy was one of those times.

“I ordered you a Whisky if that's ok,” Lilibet spoke as she noticed her friend's fond expression, “You do so much for these girls, Devs. Honestly, they all look up to you.”

Sorcha shook her head as she received her friend's compliments, “No. If anything, they look up to you. You’ve been here longer than we have.”

“Don’t try to deflect my praise and then call me old!”

“You know that’s not what I meant, Lils.”

“Do I?” Lilibet teased before taking a sip of her drink, “In all honesty, Devs. I know you’re not looking for anyone, but what about Egan? I mean you’re with him all the time. Practically glued to the hip.”

Sorcha was quick to dismiss her friend's words, “Trust me, that’s not a thing. First of all, it would crush Aileen, even though she says she’s over him. Plus, we’re just good friends. I know that because he hasn’t made any real advances on me. I know what everyone says, but it's better to let them continue than lose my friendship with him.”

“God, you’re so mature.”

“I only seem that way, Lils. Believe me, I’m not always this way.”

Lilibet rolled her eyes at Sorcha’s words, understanding that no amount of arguing would sway her position. The two women stood in comfortable silence as they sipped their drinks and watched the scenes in front of them. Occasionally they would whisper something to the other, whether it was poking fun at a pilot who was too drunk to walk, or checking in on their girls. Aileen was currently chatting with Curt Biddick, whereas Shiv had opted to converse with some Red Cross girls. Sorcha and Lilibet had to decline dances with a few men, given that Lilibet had a boyfriend, and Sorcha was just plain uninterested. Though to her credit, Lilibet only chastised her friend's lack of socializing a few times.

Sorcha was on her second drink of the evening when a blushing Aileen came in front of her, Curt on her heels. “Ma’am,” the young man spoke as he addressed the two women. Sorcha could feel the nerves pouring out of him, though she couldn’t blame him, seeing as the Tower Girls had built a reputation for being protective over one another.

“Curt, it’s nice to see you again.” Sorcha greeted as she eyed the man up and down. “I hope that you’re treating our Aileen all right.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

“Oh please don’t call any of us ma’am,” Lilibet groaned, “It makes me feel so old.”

Aileen was quick to chastise her friend, giving Lilibet a quick slap on the arm, “Leave him alone Lils.” Curt chuckled beside the girl as she wrapped an arm around his waist, not going unnoticed by Sorcha.

“Ease up on the guy, that’s my New York brethren you’re talking to.”

“That’s right,” Curt spoke with a sense of pride, “Aileen mentioned that you’re from New York and that you’re Irish. Seems like we have something in common.”

“Oh please,” Aileen interrupted with her thick accent, “You two are Irish-American. I’m the only Irish one in the group.”

Sorcha and Curt shared a look at the girl's words, laughing to themselves in a quiet understanding. “Of course you are, who else could compare?”

Aileen flushed at Curt’s words, unable to form a proper response. Before she could get her words in order, Bucky called for Curt to join the men at their table.

Curt turned to Aileen as he planted a brief kiss on her cheek, “Duty calls. I’ll be back soon.”

The Irish girl's face was bright red, matching her ginger hair as she avoided the knowing looks of her friends. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Sorcha cooly asked, receiving a glare from Aileen, “We’re just happy for you. Biddick’s a nice guy.”

“Just don’t get too attached already, sweetheart,” Lilibet said softly. She took it upon herself to be the mother hen of the group, having more life experience, as well as a strong relationship.

“I won’t!” Aileen protested, “I promise, I won’t. He’s just such a sweet guy.”

Sorcha and Lilibet chuckled at the girl's words, understanding them to be half-true. Aileen was the youngest out of their small group, so then others took it upon themselves to watch over her. Each girl had their own way of going about it, Shiv being the most direct with her advice. Sorcha viewed Aileen as the younger sister she had always wanted. The two were close, but no one could compare to Lilibet in Sorcha’s book. Sorcha met Lilibet on her first day at Thorpe Abbotts. Lilibet had recently been transferred there by the WAAF, to train the newcomers and share her 4 years of experience. Sorcha found herself drawn to Lilibet, asking her about her life since the start of the war, eager to try and understand what she was getting into. Lilibet was kind to her, divulging what she felt comfortable with, and in time, growing close to the girl filled with questions. By the time the crews arrived, the two were inseparable.

The women remained by their place at the bar, chatting about the work ahead of them tomorrow, that no one was looking forward to. Shiv and Anika eventually rejoined the group, falling into conversation alongside their friends, each girl attempting to pry information from Anika about her night with DeMarco.

Sounds of commotion outside broke the women out of their exchange, heading into the alleyway where the scene was occurring. When they stepped outside they were greeted by the image of an RAF officer lying on the cobblestone, and Curt being spun in the air by Bucky. All eyes fell on the group of women as they emerged, their cries of victory being replaced by shy silence.

Curt though, was undeterred as he made his way over to Aileen, “Guess who just socked an RAF prick in the face!”

Aileen avoided the man's eyes and she attempted to be judgemental, but a small smile cracked her terrible facade. Sorcha and Lilibet glanced at Aileen as Curt wrapped an arm around her, “What?” She exclaimed, “He probably deserved it.”

“Damn right, he did!” Cried Bucky who was standing alongside Buck and Croz, the latter meeting Sorcha’s eyes with a nervous smile.

“How about we get you boys home?” Lilibet asked as she attempted to herd the group down the alleyway and back into the street. Sorcha was about to follow before she felt an arm wrap around her shoulder. She didn’t need to look to know it was Bucky, alcohol reeking from him.

“What’s your stance on boxing, Devs?”

“I don’t really have one Bucky. Sorry to disappoint.”

“That’s a shame. You should’ve seen Curt go at that British know-it-all.” Bucky said as the two followed the rest of the group back to base. “That kid has fists of lightning I tell ya.”

Sorcha chuckled at the man's words before prompting a question, “Dare I ask what the fight was about?”

A sudden seriousness washed over Egan at his friend’s words, all the drunkenness leaving his body, “They were telling us how to bomb. Saying we’re going on suicide missions. As if I don’t know that! Believe me, I do. I’m up there as an air exec, watching my men go down mission after mission.”

Sorcha remained silent as Bucky spoke, taking in each of his grievances. She felt pained as he continued, wishing there was a way to help him in this moment. Both of them knew what the obvious fix for his problem was, but Bucky had a job as an air exec and would do his best until he could get demoted and back in the forts. All she could do to comfort Bucky was squeeze his hand, knowing that no amount of words would take away the pain and loss he felt.

“You’re doing what’s been asked of you. Every man on base looks up to you Bucky, all you can do is lead them the best you can.”

Bucky glanced down at Sorcha, a soft smile playing on his lips, “Enough of this sincerity, Devs. Doesn’t look good for my reputation.”

“God forbid I’m nice to you for a moment. I’ll remember this when you’re hungover tomorrow”

“I take it back,” Bucky replied quickly, “You can be a menace when I’m hungover.”

“I’m not that bad!” Sorcha protested as Bucky laughed at her, “You always think I’m a menace.”

“All in good fun, Devs.”

Sorcha shook her head as the pair returned to Thorpe Abbotts, heading to their barracks.

“Please, you’d be lost without me.”

“I’m sure that's true,” Bucky said as they approached Sorcha’s bunk. “Goodnight, Devs.”

“Night Bucky, drink plenty of water tomorrow!” Sorcha called as the man walked away.

As she stepped into her bunk, Sorcha felt a wave of exhaustion crash over her. She knew everyone would feel the repercussions of the night the next day, but all she could focus on was getting a decent night’s rest.

[adashoflavendermelancholy]

Platonic Soulmates

“A soulmate doesn’t have to be romantic.” It was just an idea. Something that one of their sisters mentioned. Something about a book she was reading. Soulmates weren’t even a real thing.

Marco never thought about it before. Not until he was sick. Being a phoenix did mean that he had a resilient body. Not that he couldn’t get sick or hurt. Just that he wasn’t likely to die from it. Not easily anyway. Back to what eh was saying. Marco was sick and there was too much work to be done.

They just gained a new brother. One that had the chance to burn the whole ship if someone wasn’t watching him. Though Ace was usually careful. Marco knew that Thatch was put in charge of watching the little gremlin but that didn’t make him worry any less. Not that Thatch couldn’t handle it. Marco just like to keep his finger on the pulse of the crew. Nothing getting too out of hand before he was there. His father didn’t need the headache of things going wrong.

Marco planned to just get up and do his job anyway. That plan flew out the window as he tried to sit up. The world twirled around him like Haruta jumping on a prank. It almost made him throw up. And, he hadn’t even stood up yet. It was just sitting up that split his head in two.

A knock at the door, let him know that it was late in the day. No one usually bothered him unless it was late. “Come in.” He said, his voice sounding loud to himself. Apparently it wasn’t loud enough as the person knocked again. The echoing on the wooden door making his head hurt more.

When the door opened and light filtered into the room. Marco closed his eyes hoping for the pain to go away. A cool hand touched his head, “You’re burning up.” Thatch’s voice whispered. Marco dared to open his eyes, Thatch was standing next to his bed with a worried expression.

“I’m fine.” Marco muttered again. His eyes closing again as he talked. Why was it so hard to keep them open? “Just need a minute to get up.”

The cool hand was back, Marco leaned into it. Thatch muttered something but it sounded far away. Like he was drowning. When he opened his eyes again Thatch was there with a cool towel. “Awake? I brought you soup.” Thatch said, setting the bowl on the bed side table.

Marco sat up. His head still spinning, but at least it didn’t hurt as much. “How- What time is it?” Marco asked, looking around the room.

Thatch smiled, “Now, now. Eat and then I’ll tell you.” Before shoving a spoon full of soup into his mouth. Marco swallowed because what else was he supposed to do?

“Thatch, I can eat by myself.” He said, reaching out for the spoon.

Thatch pulled it out of his reach. “Nope, You’re sick and should rest. I already told pops and the nurses. If you think I’m gonna let you leave before you finish the whole bowl you’re wrong.” Marco wanted to kick the other. Just what was Thatch planning to do? Make fun of him later for being spoon fed while sick? Marco would have if he wasn’t already tired again. All he did was sit up and talk a bit, but he felt like falling over to die.

“Here, say ‘AH’.” Thatch said, holding out the spoon. Marco took another bite, if only to get the other out of the room. “I was talking to fire fist. I think he’s starting to want to stay. Pop’s was right about him, but pops is always right. The kid has his quirks but is a good kid. Just needs a place to learn and grow.” Thatch said, as he kept feeding Marco spoon fulls of soup. Marco listened to the ‘progress’, totally not praise and Thatch wanting to keep the boy around. No, that would be silly. Thatch was a pirate just taking care of another thanks to the captains ruling.

“I can’t believe you started training him too.” Marco said, watching the other turn a little pink.

“It’s not like the kids anything… Well, no he is pretty special. He’s gotten the hang of Haki, like a fish to water. He still needs a bit more but it wont be long before he can take even us on. Pops though… he’s a long way away from his strength. But I can see it under the surface. That kid will be one hell of a fighter when he’s a bit older.” Thatched explained. Part of him hoping that Marco wouldn’t think he was just praising the kid because he was in charge of taking care of him.

Marco didn’t think that though. Thatch was a soft touch for a pirate, but that didn’t mean that someone could walk all over him. Thatch was well known before joining Pops. The man gave praise to those he thought were worth it. “Hey, I want another bite.” Marco said, as Thatch stopped feeding him to worry.

Thatch blinked before huffing. “Yeah, yeah. Use me for my food.”

“Well, it’s the only good thing about you.” Marco said back, laughing as Thatch gasped. Taking another bite of the soup. By now it was almost done. A little part of Marco was sad by that. When was the last time he got to just sit and talk like this anymore? After becoming the first division commander things changed, there was so much to do and not enough time for it all. Learning what he did about medicine and pops. He couldn’t just sit around waiting for their father to pass. But, there was no cure for old age.

Finishing the bowl, Thatch made Marco lay back down. It wasn’t hard, thanks to Marco already falling asleep again. “Thatch.” Marco called, his eyes closed.

Thatch had gathered the bowl and water he brought. Turning to Marco, he called back softly. “Yeah?”

“Thanks, for being here.”

“Anytime, You’re our precious brother after all.” Thatch said, a soft laugh in his tone. Marco heard the soft steps of Thatch leaving, and the door closing. Before he was sleeping again.

[drabblesdotcom]

when i first saw you, it was another work day. another pirate with their obnoxious crew. i was behind the counter, wiping cups and pouring drinks for customers when you sat on a barstool, waiting for me to finish an order. as soon as i walked away from them, you called me over with a big smile on your face.

your red hair was what first caught my attention. it was unusual to me, but i didn't say anything about it. you ordered barrels of drinks with one drink on the side for yourself. you chatted up a storm about random topics while i picked up barrels, making me roll my eyes mentally.

immediately after i placed a cup in front of you, pouring a drink, you complimented me, calling me beautiful and hard-working. my whole time working as a bartender, 8 years to be exact, i only ever got one compliment. and that quickly turned into an assault charge. my co-workers were the ones that got showered in praise.

this is probably because you were a pirate, and a pirate would have just groped me, asking me if i wanted to spend the night with them, but, coming from you.. it felt refreshing. genuine, even. the smile you gave when you uttered those words to me, the look in your eyes, it spoke volumes.

maybe that's why i cried so much when you departed, holding onto your promise of return. stupid, i know, but i hang on to any sign of affection, even if it seems desperate. maybe that's why i always looked through the newspapers to find you in them, finding myself disappointed when you didn't appear.

i never got to see your strength firsthand, so maybe you weren't as notorious as i thought. but i stood corrected. maybe my first encounter with you was too innocent, seeing as i was shocked to find you in the newspaper one faithful day, and you were referred to as one of the 4 yonko, with a ฿4,048,900,000 bounty.

that was 11 months ago. now, i've set sail on a journey too. a journey to find you. to demand answers. i know, i know, i should've waited for you. but i got impatient. believe it or not, i've racked up a bounty of my own! ฿2,750,000 to be exact. it's not much compared to you, but i'm proud of it!

i know when we meet again, you'll scold me for becoming a pirate. telling me how dangerous it is and how you can lose your life in the blink of an eye. i can't wait to hear it, no matter how furious you'll be. most of all, i can't wait to see you again, shanks.

[ask-de-writer]

SEE STORY (Part 1 of 5) A tale from the World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

See Story

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

Cover art by @wind-the-mama-cat​

14372 words

copyright 2023

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may   reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge   for their images.

All sorts of Fan Activity, fiction, art, cosplay, music or anything else is ACTIVELY encouraged!

///////////////////////

Sea is a colony assumed lost somewhat over a thousand years before this tale opens.  They were sent on a one way trip, not knowing that there was no land at all on the whole world of Sea.  Thus, aside from humans, NO CREATURE OF SEA IS IN ANY WAY ITS NAMESAKE.  They were simply named for a superficial resemblance to some Earthly creature by the early colonists.

///////////////////////

Cat ran lightly forward, down the deck toward the bow, her long, sea-foam colored hair streaming out ahead of her in the brisk breeze.  The tocsin drum’s staccato beat had called ‘course change’ and she was the first of the Longin’s crew to reach the lines needed to set the big lateen foresail for the next tack.  By the time that the others got there, the lines were free of the marlin spikes, and the sail was beginning to swing, according to orders, stayed only by her neatly coiled line paying out around a spike for leverage.  The others took up their lines, and added their strength to Cat’s. When she snubbed hers, they followed suit, done a fraction of a second before the Captain called, “Enough!  Belay lines!”  Other Crew-folk had attended to the mainsail and mizzen.  The Longin came about, and settled into her new course.

/////////////////////////////

Far to the south, far enough that only a bare topmast would be visible from the Longin, and that only if it were searched for, the Grandalor’s lookouts reported the change.  Captain Barad ordered his crew to action, and changed course to match.  He was careful to stay as nearly invisible to the Longin as possible.

////////////////////////////

Without being told, Cat was neatly coiling the lines and securing them.  She did not need to look at what she was doing.  She worked by touch alone.  Her face was toward the Sea.  Had she been looking at it, she would have been looking at a place about half way to the horizon. Nobody upbraided her for redoing their lines.  Her coils always shook out perfectly.  That she left three of the lines alone, was a high praise to the crew.

Tousle headed children of the crew stormed about her.  “Tell us a story Cat!  Tell us about Sea Dragons!  Please!”

“I was waiting for that last word,” the young woman grinned, sitting on a hatch cover.  “Just to be sure that you know it, what was the word again?”

“Please,” they chorused raggedly.

In a voice like the sound of sea waves breaking in a wind, she began, “There are many Sea Dragons, as you surely know, but five of them are the Great Dragons.  Some say that they made the World of Sea.  Others say, and no person of sense disagrees, that they rule the Word of Sea.  There is Blind Mecat, who sees nothing and knows all things; Dark Iren, who is black and hunts with Orca whales; Horen, who, from his deep home, rules the fish in their migrations; Frath, the Lord of Storm, and Dari, who guides the birds and the winds that bear them.

“Now, I will tell you a story of a time long ago, when the Great Sea Dragons ruled openly and the ships were new.  In those days, nobody knew how to make ships on the ocean and the First Ships were getting old.  The knowledge of making ships had been left on Dry Land.”

“What’s Dry Land?” asked sad, dark-haired Kurin, one of the smallest of the children.

Scornfully, one of the other children said, “It’s a place where the sea bottom comes up right out of the water, so the sun dries it out and you can walk without getting wet.  There is no such place, really, so it means they forgot.”

Cat gathered the crestfallen little tyke into her lap, and said, “Silor is right, you know. When something is left on Dry Land, it means that it is forgotten. But the Sea People still needed to know how to make new ships.  First they went to the Dragon Frath but he did not know how to build a ship.  ‘I live under the Sea.  I do not know how to make something float.  If you should find out how to do it, I will help, if I am able.’  The Sea people thanked Frath for his time and went on with their search.  Dark Iren said that he would be happy to help, if only he knew what to do.  Horen said that he could help them, if they needed fish, but he knew nothing of boats.  Even Dari was willing to help, but  … ”

“She didn’t know what to do!” chorused the children.

“Now there was only Blind Mecat.  When the People of the Sea came to her, she said I have been waiting for you.  What took you so long?  You need to make more ships.  You will need more Glue-fish than ever you have seen before.  Horen can give you those.  You will need so many Strong Skin fish that you cannot catch them all yourself.  The bigger they are, the better it will be for the work.  Dark Iren’s Orca whales can herd them to you.  Frath only needs to keep the Sea calm while you work, and Dari needs to keep the skies clear so that the glue can set.

“Mecat helped the people to make a raft of floats to build upon, and showed them how to laminate the Strong Skins with Gluefish glue, to make a solid hull, just as we still do today.  Soon the first hull of a ship built at sea, of only Sea things, took shape.  Once it was done, they still had to rig the ship and make its sails.

“When the People of the Sea asked Blind Mecat, who knew all things, where to get the rope and cloth, she smiled and held out a lowly mussel, plucked from the bottom of a ship.  After the People came back from the places that they had run to … ”

“Why’d they run?” demanded Silor.

“Have you ever seen a Dragon smile?  Imagine a mouth, eight feet long, full of sharp teeth as much as two feet long bared at you.  If you had sense, you’d run, too.

“‘You already know how to make rope and weave cloth,’ she told them.  ‘This is your new thread.  Let the mussel just plant its first strand to a stick of dried sea weed and then pull it slowly and gently away.’  As long as it was lightly pulled, the mussel kept making the filament longer and longer.  The People took the mussel’s thread and made their strong rope and sail fabric.

“Thus was made the first of the True Ships, the Dragon’s Friend.

“Now, you scamps get to your chores, or I will find work for you!”  The children scattered to the winds, having had that experience before.  Cat set challenging chores. Only small Kurin remained, still cuddled into her lap.  Kurin gathered Cat’s long, wind-blown hair together, stroking it.

“I wish that I had hair like yours, Cat.  Nobody else on the Longin has hair the color of new sea foam.  Your hair is as beautiful as you are.”

“Thank you, little Kurin Behar. Someday, you will be beautiful in your own right.”

Kurin turned about on Cat’s lap.  “I have been wondering about something, Cat.”

“Curiosity is good.  What do you wonder about?”

To be Continued

NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

[logicheartsoul]

Hi darlin’ ! 🧡🌈🍀🌻✨ what are your fav outfits in tfatws? or your fav settings to cap? Do you listen to music when you make edits?

Hey Bee!!! Sorry this took so long, I had to go through some of my screencaps to find some of my faves. Yes there's a ton of Sarah's outfits but that's coz 1) she has IMMACULATE style but also 2) it looks so good but SO COMFY and easy to put together which is my jam but also 3) colorful because I am not one of those people who could do a wardrobe that's just like... white/grey/black only. Not to mention her earring game like...I want to wear some of those too.

Also looking for these, I noticed Sam's not the only one with shoe tastes (Sarah has a range of sneakers as well in the series which look nice but I'm still reeling over Sam having over 6+ pairs of shoes in this entire series, shoephile!Sam anyone?). I am always forever loving Sam's leatherjacket and turtleneck look but Sharon's whole look including that green jacket? Bucky's classic peacoat? I want those outerwear SO BAD

I dunno if I have any fave settings, I just...take screencaps if I think there's a detail there I want to highlight/remember (even if it's just something minor like Sam being a fry stealer lol and then he doesn't even FINISH the fry he tosses it into the water!!!) or stuck out to me or a shot just looks nice to me. (That last one is just the photographer in me lmao)

Though there are SO MANY fabulous locations in this show that it's just wonderful to screencap them. I could probably do an aesthetics/moodboard compilation just using images from the show LOL

As for music, sometimes I do but sometimes I don't! Just depends if I feel like it.

[realcleverissues]

Squid Game

love this show. I also really liked the glass bridge game. This game actually seems like the best example of hyper-capitalism of all the games (which may be why they put it in despite it not really being a child's game like the other ones are).

Basically, it shows how arbitrary it is that someone will succeed bc everyone's path has options and people must make decisions. While we often criticize a person's bad choice as the reason for their failures, what we often fail to realize is that we all must make hundreds of decisions in life - and very few of them will lead to success. It's much more likely that one will not succeed in making it big, or may even fail spectacularly. Like that guy in the show who's a math genius but realizes he only has a 1 in 30,000 chance of getting across the bridge. Every decision we make may advance us or may make us fall far behind. Even one bad decision can set someone back indefinitely - but usually it’s a lifetime of decisions, with no clear option better than the other (just like in the game), that leads people to a struggling “middle class” lifestyle. The odds are not in our favor.

Furthermore, it shows how people may benefit from the “failures” of others. In this case, the people in the back benefit from the people up front who died trying to cross the bridge. They weren't better bridge-crossers. They were just lucky. Similarly, capitalism is inherently built on exploitation, allowing the capitalists to benefit from the “failure of others to not also become mega-rich capitalists”. For instance, consider the “failure” rate of small businesses:

According to data from the Bureau of Labor Statistics, as reported by Fundera, approximately 20 percent of small businesses fail within the first year. By the end of the second year, 30 percent of businesses will have failed. By the end of the fifth year, about half will have failed. And by the end of the decade, only 30 percent of businesses will remain — a 70 percent failure rate.

Now, I don’t think 70% of businesses are started by idiots. I also would not say that intelligence and effort make no difference. However, it seems pretty clear that luck will have a significant impact on one’s chance of success. And that can’t be predicted or judged as personal failure - or personal merit.

For instance, even the makers of the squid game series had no idea how successful it would become. And it’s wildly successful. It may be netflix’s most watched show EVER. Could anyone have predicted that? Would anyone say that the squid game crew worked 10x, or 100x, or a 1,000x harder than others? I don’t think so. And then there are external factors. For instance, many have wondered if the current pandemic has played a role in the show’s success.

But most of the time in our terribly unequal world, when people succeed, we often attribute it to skill or genius alone without giving much consideration to luck and other external factors.

For instance, Jeff Bezos got a $300,000 loan from his parents when he was starting his business. How many of us even have parents with $300,000 lying around, let alone willing to lend it to us? Additionally, Bezos benefited from the tax structure at the time, which allowed him to not charge sales tax. Other online sellers were around when amazon started - but amazon could charge 5-10% less bc they could avoid taxes through a sort of new type of loophole. In essence, this deprived states of their tax revenue so as to attract business and enrich bezos (and this went on for years). And while this means that consumers are saving money, it also means that states are losing money, money which is needed to pay for programs used by everyone, and esp the poor. In this sense, bezos didn’t invent a new way to shop. Instead, he invented a new way to avoid taxes. That’s not the kind of innovation we generally consider worthy of reward and praise. But by the time the law caught up and stopped this practice, amazon was already firmly established as the western online marketplace leader. In other words, it was too late for others who played fairly to catch up.

Now, this isn't to say that successful people like bezos and others haven't worked hard - I am sure they have -  but that there's more to success than just personal effort. There’s often luck, gov’t infrastructure, and negative innovations which are driving their success. And at the same time, the people who “fail” in society are usually not failures; they’re just statistics. A normal distribution along predictable, mathematical curves. They are mostly the people who weren’t lucky enough to be born at the back of the glass-bridge line - let alone to sit in the viewing boxes for the observers.

P.s. It was demonstrated that a monkey picking random stocks would do better than world class investors. Also, there is an actual hamster picking stocks better than world experts.

[symphonic-scream]

Here. OC Post.

I'm bored and no one asked but here's my little idiot troupe of OCs, all in one post. Let me introduce them to you

Minor context first; in this universe, the people's of one continent were granted magic by their patron to defend their homeland from invaders, and now, many generations later, only people with some percentage of that ancestry have a chance of having magic. In every generation, 13 children- one for each of the original nations -are born with higher magic potential, chosen at birth to be the next Guardians of this sacred land. These 13 here are the newest Guardians.

Note; everyone has surnames, I just didn't wanna write them all out.

First off is Dante, master of Strength magic. He's the group's leader, though he's conflicted over having this role. He doesn't know when to ask for help, wants to appear strong and capable to others, but this can lead to him crumbling under the pressure. Dante is a pretty big guy, at 17 he's about 6'0", and built like a wall. He's Latino, so he's pretty tan, and has hazel eyes and thin, dark hair he keeps cut military-short. He likes to wear solid coloured polo shirts and dark slacks.

Next, Aisha, who has Plant magic. Aisha is stubborn to a fault, and rarely let's things go. She doesn't care to keep her mouth shut, though everything she says is carefully thought over. She's protective, considers herself selfish, greedy, and doesn't like to be looked down upon. At 17 Aisha is 5'7", looks like a kickboxer. Her birth mother was middle eastern, and her hair is a light, curly brown, just long enough for a simple ponytail, and her eyes are deep brown. She typically wears darker colours, simple tanks and tees under a maroon bomber jacket, with dark jeans.

Third is Rowen with Illusion magic. She's almost too kind, believes that at their core, everyone is good, often helps resolve disputes with the others. Great at keeping secrets, almost too great. Doesn't have a very high opinion of herself, can't handle compliments very well. Coming in at 5'3", one of the shortest of the bunch at 17, looks like a gymnast. Rowen is rather pale, with long blonde hair and warm honey-brown eyes. She's often seen in warm sweaters and soft skirts.

Then, it's Maria, user of Copy magic. Maria is a daydreamer at heart, and often sets her hopes too high. She tends to get anxious over things, but does have a genuine curiosity that has her eating her words and charging forwards despite her nerves. She's 5'5", and the least muscled of the whole group. Maria is mixed Black and Japanese, though most of her features are the former, with curly dark hair and dark eyes. Most of the time she's wearing large t-shirts and lighter casual pants.

Hugo is fifth, and he's got Protection magic. A quiet soul, he's more content to just be around people than engage with them. He enjoys caring for his friends, making sure they're taking care, and hates to see them in any pain. Hugo is the tallest at 6'3", and he's damn lanky. He's some parts Spanish and Jewish, though it's messy how split that is, with soft brown hair and green-brown eyes. He tends to wear crew necks, with cargo pants.

Number six is Korain, who uses Darkness magic. While he tends to be broody, and look annoyed, he cares very deeply. He's always focused on the bad, the wrong, the unfair and unjust, and often fails to see the good. He's tied for shortest at 5'3", built for martial arts. He's Korean, with mid length dark hair and dark eyes. Korain wears lots of dark colours, layering shirts under a hoodie or jacket with black trousers.

Seventh is Tiao, Speed magic master. Always filled with energy, he doesn't know how to stop. His words come faster than he can think them, and often says things that don't make sense. He's prideful, but depends on extrinsic motivation and praise. He's 5'9", runners build. He dyes his hair bright orange, spikes it back like it's being blown back by the wind, and he's Chinese. He wears bright colours, goofy shirts, athletic shorts.

Next up is Kayla, with Earth magic. She likes to appear like a slacker, but she's already three steps ahead. She knows she's hot shit and will proudly say it, unafraid to be who she is, unapologetically. She's a bit of a prankster, as her mischievous streak runs a mile long. Though, if she ever falls hard, she might not be able to pick herself up alone. 5'6", Kayla is built like a wrestler, and the only full indigenous guardian this generation. She dyes her hair a pale pink, keeps it in two twin tails, and has startling green eyes. She likes athlesure wear. Joggers, a running shirt, she's set.

Zachary or Zach, number nine, user of Water magic. Born mostly deaf, Zach has a calm mind, and enjoys having deep, mindful conversations. He shows his care behind the scenes, cleaning up when no one's around to see, restocking everyone's favourite snacks, he wants to be useful even if no one has to know. He's 6'1", a swimmer, and black. Most of the time his dark hair is shaved low to his head, and his eyes are a dark green. Zach likes to dress down, in simple t-shirts and khakis.

Then we've got Cameron who goes by "Cam", who uses Animal magic. The resident hype man, Cam loves to support his friends, let them know they're loved and appreciated. He's soft, often takes things a little hard, but so far he's always bounced back. A great listener, a great cuddler, he feels everything so strongly, even crying during movies that weren't sad. He's 5'6", looks like an acrobat. His light brown hair is wavy and kept short, and his eyes are a golden-brown. He's stylish, wears only clothes he knows make him look good, like patterned collared shirts, slim shorts.

Torren is eleventh with his Electric magic. Quick to anger, he's the world's shortest fuse, with an explosive temper to match. He'll always bite back harder, always trying to get the last word in. He doesn't like being mad, he doesn't enjoy being angry, he just doesn't know how else to deal with the mess in his head. He's 5'8", pale as paper, built like a boxer. His dirty blonde hair is wild, sticks up when he's mad from static, and his eyes are an electric blue. He tends to wear hoodies and big plaid jackets, with cargo pants or shorts.

Next we've got Alexandria, Sound magic user. She believes in telling it as it is, even if it hurts. She'll tell you exactly what she's thinking, and wants everyone to believe she has nothing to hide, whether she does or not is between her and herself. Not afraid to start a fight, she can appear apathetic or harsh to people who aren't too close to her. Coming in at 5'9" she looks lean but packs a mean punch. Alexandria keeps half of her long, dark brown hair braided close to the side of her head, claims she's debating shaving that side, with green eyes. She wears dark band shirts, dark jeans, sometimes a deep blue jacket.

And, last but not least, Ishan, who has Fire magic. Not one to speak up, Ishan often feels lost. Lost with himself, lost in who he is and what that means. He's looking for his place in the world, hoping he won't end up left behind or all alone. He's south Asian, 5'8", just seems generally fit. His dark hair is curly, and he tries to keep it short but often forgets to cut it, and his eyes are dark brown. Ishan often wears long sleeved shirts with track pants, but he rolls his sleeves up.

That's our main cast and some stuff about them. I'm working on this project again for now, and I'd love to talk about it more! So feel free to ask me about anything, I'm eager to share!

[sashi-ya]

Bartolomeo having a crush on s/o (that parts of the Straw Hats). s/o complimenting him that his abilities are cool and enjoying his company meanwhile Bartolomeo is being a shy around them please? 🥺👉👈

Hi!! of course! I love Bartolomeo! It's the first time I write for him, so I hope you like this little OS for him! Thanks for reading and requesting ~💖

Bartolomeo x Gn!Reader ~ Having a crush on Reader ~

TW: none. SFW.

WC: 1060

“Oi, minna!! There are marine ships on sight!!” shouts Chopper from the crow nest. Everyone prepares to protect the Thousand Sunny, including your host, Bartolomeo.

Zoro is ready to slice the bombs with his santoryuu style, Sanji has his leg on fire, Franky is charging the Sunny so we could escape with Coup de Burst.

You are helping Nami with the coke barrels, and whenever you two are ready you run to the deck to tell Franky everything is set.

A bomb heads directly to your defenseless you so you close your eyes because there is no time for you to escape. Seconds before the impact you hear “Barrier Ball!” and you hear several explosions all around you, yet you are safe and sound.

When you open your eyes, you see a semi-transparent wall around you and Bartolomeo in front of you with his fingers crossed.

“Bartolomeo!! Thank you so much! your barriers are so strong oh my god! You saved my life!!”, you praise the green hair boy while recover from the shock.

Bartolomeo turns to you still with his fingers crossed, and his cheeks turn completely red. He is unable to speak, but then he gives you the biggest smile ever. “How cute he is”, you think.

Franky shouts everybody to hold on, and the Sunny flies far from the siege of the Marine’s ships. You fall over Bartolomeo, who saves you once again. You giggle because he seems to be your saviour today.

The Cannibal turns even more red when he realizes he got you in his arms. But, even if he wanted to speak, he simply just couldn't. You look at him, kinda worried, because you think he is getting uncomfortable with your presence. “Uhm, I’m gonna see how the guys are doing, if you want to come…” you tell him, looking at the ground, and then walk away.

You hear as if someone has fallen into the deck, so you peek back on the side of your shoulder and see Bartolomeo curling up on the deck, covering his face with his two hands. “What the f….?”.

That night Sanji decides to cook a big, delicious meal for everybody, and all of you gather in the dining room. Quickly your nakamas take their places, but Barto leans on the frame of the door, with an innocent smile. “Oi Crest-head kun, why don’t you come and sit with us?” Robin calls Barto to join you. Bartolomeo starts jumping and praising “Robin senpai” while you all laugh at how fan of your crew mates he is. But the only free seat that’s left happens to be on your side, and he stops himself violently before sitting. “Barto! Come sit here, I really enjoy your company!” you tell him, patting the wooden chair. You notice the girls giggling, but you don’t really get why. Barto takes a moment and finally sits at your side.

While you all eat joyfully, you notice he is not eating as always, he is indeed shy and avoids looking at you as much as he can. So you are really getting worried at this point. “Am I annoying him? Am I making him feel uncomfortable?” ... but you decide not to say anything and try to avoid talking to him… You get a little bit sad, though, you really like Barto.

Everybody but you leave the kitchen and heads to their rooms. Tonight you are on guard, so you will be the whole night taking care of the security of the ship and the whole crew.

After saying goodnight you head to the utility room and grab a big blanket so you can snuggle inside in order not to freeze during the night. Outside there is a dark deep sky, the stars flicker with intensity, and the sound of the waves relaxes while you are sitting with your back against the mast on the crow nest.

A few hours pass and the lights of the cabins are finally all turned off. Suddenly, something scares you, so you stick your head out the crow nest and you see Bartolomeo walking all over the place, mumbling something you can’t properly hear.

You remain silent, hiding trying to decipher his words, feeling a little guilty, but also really intrigued in what keeps him awake.

He finally stops moving and lets his body fall over the railing of the Sunny. He has his sight lost on the horizon, and you really like how his green hair shines with the moonlight.

He sighs, and says "I wish I weren’t a coward… I really like her… I really like [reader]".

You gasp when you hear your name. He likes you?... you thought you were making him uncomfortable, but it was all because he liked you? You can't help but feel something like butterflies on your stomach, so you unwillingly giggle.

"Who's there??! Who dares to invade the glorious ship of the Mugiwara no Ichimi?! Huh?!", Barto shouts in defence.

“Barto, It’s me! I’m on guard tonight!”, you tell him from up there. “Y/n!!” he tells you and his whole face turns to red once more. He immediately covers his face with his hands and stands still for a moment.

You look at him, thinking about how cute he is hiding behind the same hands that today saved you more than once.

Without taking his hands off his face, he asks you with a trembling voice, “Y/n.. did you hear…?”. You smile and tell him, “I did… but, you are not a coward Barto… You saved me today! I thought I was making you feel uncomfortable, but It’s ok!”.

He slowly takes his hands off his face, and looking at the ground, with burning cheeks tells you, almost shouting “I… HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU, Y/N!”.

You smile because the scene makes you remember those fairy tales. He is like the prince telling everybody his love for you, while you look at him from your tower. “I like you too, Bartolomeo!”, you tell him.

Barto looks at you with teary eyes and a big smile. “F-For… FOR REAL??”, he says excited, so excited he is kneeling on the floor.

You laugh at how cute he looks and tell him “Why don’t you use your barrierbility, so you make a stair to climb over here?”.

“O-of course, Y/n-senpai!!! ~ ♥ ”

[blackestnight]

ttrpg directory

since it’s been over two years since i last did one of these, below the cut you will find all my current (regular) tabletop characters (for those who find such things interesting):

starfinder

starmistress britta makee (NG human solarian), the sometimes-captain of the outland ranger, flagship of the dreaded space pirates known as the reapers. she’s actually an npc i took over after my soldier died (praise be, playing a melee-only soldier in starfinder is so fucking boring) so i didn’t make britta myself. she’s the crown princess from a planet that, due to some fucky radiation shit, produces a lot of insanely high-level witchwarpers, but she didn’t want to be one herself so she sat in a magic chair that made her a jedi. then she was kidnapped and trafficked to be sold as a slave, at which point the intrepid party rescued her (and my poor brave soldier perished while defending her, rest in pieces). because she comes from a low-tech, high-magic planet she...actually doesn’t know what a starship is. or a computer. which is not ideal for this setting. but she makes do, especially because she has a really fancy magic knife.

currently, britta and the reapers have been commissioned as privateers by a deposed emperor to overthrow his sister, the empress, by terrorizing the colony planets and telling them that the former emperor is the only one who can offer protection from the Big Scary Pirates; in the process we’ve also taken bounties from his sister the empress, the presidents of two colony planets, and the pirate king to bring in these other pirates who were terrorizing the colony planets, but we’re planning to fake their deaths and hire them as part of our crew instead. we’re double-crossing like six people. if this works we’ll be gods.

pathfinder 2e

electra godstongue (NG half-elf oracle of flames): she’s still around and kickin’! the circus is going strong, although at the moment they’re on a performing hiatus because some pterodactyls ate part of our tent, which was incredibly rude of them, honestly. in the meantime we’re helping to defend a small town that’s under siege by some big lizard dudes who ride dinosaurs. as a part of that we went spelunking in some sea caves, where we might end up going toe-to-toe with a great old one. so. that’s fine. also, if the campaign ends up where i think it’s going, we might literally become gods.

electra also holds the current record at our table for the highest damage number from a single turn of combat: seven zombies, a seventh-level sunburst spell, and some especially generous dice resulted in a whopping 959 damage. our two healers also had the same spell (16d10 against undead!) and we cleared out the entire room in three turns.

gwenllian (NG human witch), and her raven familiar, sir richard campbell gansey iii. yes i did steal their names from the raven cycle. she’s a new character, created for a mini-campaign, and she’s in charge of party healing despite being...not a healer. if you come to her asking to get your wounds patched up, she’ll rub some dirt on it—literally. but it’s magic dirt, so it works.

she’s a little bit feral, keeps sticking random twigs in her pockets, and no one can figure out if she’s actually just a druid who thinks she’s a witch, but she brews good potions and she’s brave and/or stupid enough to volunteer to sneak into an orc stronghold and assassinate their king, so she’ll work! (even if she does talk to her raven a lot. but also, the raven talks back, or so says the actual druid, who claims to be able to understand him. she and the druid are the only party members who speak sylvan.)

álmos szarka (CN half-elf thaumaturge): another new character, this time for society play! they’ll be debuting this weekend. they’re definitely a traveling wizard* who’s selling 100% authentic talismans** and who you should definitely give your money to***. also, álmos is their government name, but if that’s too hard to remember they’ll happily answer to dream. (not actually related to sandman.) they’re a member of the vigilant seal faction of the pathfinders, so they’re mostly dedicated to tracking down and sealing away or destroying dangerous magical artifacts and creatures; being from irrisen, which has been ruled by winter witches for the last fourteen centuries, they’re appropriately wary of anything magic. despite that, it seems like no matter what they come across, they have the perfect piece of cold iron or saint’s knucklebone or spell scroll to counter it tucked away somewhere in their voluminous coat.

also they’re the Lore Guy, despite having an intelligence of +0. they roll charisma for their lore. they’re full of shit, basically, but really good at convincing you they know what they’re talking about.

*not a wizard **not authentic ***don’t.

[mel-the-fangirl]

Toss A Coin to Your Witcher

Henry Cavill x Reader

Words: 2,362

I am so so so nervous to post this because this is my first time writing a Henry fic and I know that the Henry Cavill fandom is such a tightknit family, I hope you guys have room for one more hopeless Henry stan. I know this isn’t even half as good as the other Henry fics out there but I had this idea stuck in my head for a very long time.

Please like and reblog or leave me some replies if I should do a second part! Thank you!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The makeup brush swept precisely along your cheekbone, covering it in a subtle shimmer. Production staff milled around behind you, testing sound, testing lights. Being an actor, these things were nothing new. 

"Now remember, say it with me," 

"Don't say or do anything stupid." you recited with your long time agent and friend, Marge.

You thanked the makeup artist and made your way to the set. 

"When have I ever said or done anything stupid though?" you asked

Marge looked at you appraisingly before replying, 

"There's always a time for everything. Now go on." 

The vibe on set dialled to a hundred when you stepped on. It was really flattering how they cheered as you plonked your butt down on the wooden chair, a red tarp was set up behind you and the studio lights surrounded the area.

"Ready when you are Y/N!" the producer aka the ring leader of this whole operation flashed you a thumbs up

You nodded, feeling the nervousness bubble up your throat. 

Surprise, surprise. You still got nervous in front of the camera. It wasn't hard to handle though, you took a couple of deep breaths and you were good to go. 

"Hey guys, gals, and non-binary pals! I'm Y/N Y/L/N. I'm here with Buzzfeed and we're gonna be playing Twenty Questions." you winked at the camera with your arms wrapped around the little jar that had your questions in it

 "Let's get started, shall we?" 

Eager to begin, you stuck your hand into the jar without a second thought. 

"I freaking love Buzzfeed, really. Especially Tasty, I mean, I don't cook. But," you shrugged, wiggling your fingers, hearing the tiny bits of folded paper move around in the jar. "I love watching people cook. Then I love eating."

Scattered chuckles broke out through the crew. 

After a few minutes of rustling around, you figured you’d just come clean, "Okay. Small problem." 

You lifted your hand, the jar coming along with it. The pieces of folded paper crowding around your encased wrist as you waved your arm. 

Another round of shocked giggles started up as a couple of assistants rushed to you and tried to yank the jar off. 

"This is too good," the producer chortled, "Mind if we keep this in?"

"Fine by me!" you watched intently as Marge rolled up your sleeve so one assistant could pour oil all over it. Eagle eyed, she watched as a drop of oil landed on the bottom hem of your sweater.

"Great job, Y/N. This sweater was a gift from that designer you met last week, he said he made it just for you." she scolded, taking charge by grabbing the jar with two hands

"It was an accident, Marge. It's not like I planned on getting my hand stuck in a jar today!"

With a tug and a pop, your hand was free and slick with olive oil. Marge landed on her butt on the floor.

"Marge!" you howled with laughter, helping her up

She straightened her blouse, all business but her cheeks were stained red with embarrassment. 

"Can someone help Y/N wash the oil off her hands? Let's get this show on the road, people!" she barked marching orders at the staff, clapping her hands as she went. She wasn't in charge here but no one dared to question her. 

You chuckled, knowing that this was a cute little anecdote you’d be sharing with anyone who was willing to listen.

A few minutes later, you were back in your chair, having a laugh with everyone. The jar incident already stripped away the majority of your anxiety so you were ready to go.

"Okay! First question!" you squinted at the strip of paper, "What is the most expensive thing you’ve stolen from any set you’ve been on?" 

“Well!” you widened your eyes at the camera, “Bold of you all to assume that I’ve ever stolen anything!”

Marge scoffed rather audibly, making everyone raise their eyebrows at you.

“Okay, fine!” you held up your hand. The stunning ring you had on sparkled underneath the lights, nearly blinding anyone who looked.

“I did a period movie a while back and they had these drop dead gorgeous, and I mean gorgeous pieces of jewelry. I wore this piece,” you gazed down at the ring fondly, “for the whole of the film and I just pinched it after we wrapped, I couldn’t part with it, okay? I’m like a fricking magpie, I love shiny things.”

The crew burst into fits of laughter, making you laugh along with them.

“To clarify! This is the replica the props department had made, a very expensive replica. I can see you freaking out, Marge. And no, you don’t have to call the insurance company.”

You were a big hit, to say the least. You had them in stitches every time you opened your mouth but all good things had to come to an end, right?

It didn’t matter how carefully you dipped your hand into the question jar, this next one was going to make things very messy for you. 

"What do you like to do in your free time?" you read out loud, tapping a finger against your chin

"There hasn't been much free time lately,” you chuckled, “Let’s see… I play video games, yeah. I am so obsessed with the Witcher, it's borderline unhealthy. I’ve read all the books and played the games so many times." 

"What do you think of Henry Cavill as Geralt?" the producer asked you

Henry Cavill.

Just hearing that man's name was enough to make the blood rush to your cheeks. You brushed an imaginary hair out of your face. From behind the camera, Marge raised a knowing brow.

"Well," you cleared your throat and sat up straighter

"To be honest, at first I was really skeptical about his casting. I mean, he is way too good looking. Like way. Way. Too good looking. But…"

"But?"

Your mind drifted to the first time you saw a picture of Henry Cavill in full costume. The white hair, the golden cat eyes, the intense gaze and all that leather? It definitely made you feel… Certain things.

You cleared your throat, propping yourself on the table with your arms. To be honest, your head was still in a Henry Cavill haze so you had zero control of what came out of your mouth next.

"I'd definitely toss all my coins to that Witcher. Toss a few other things as well."

Everyone in the room ooh'ed and whistled, delighted by your saucy reply. The ruckus snapped you out of it and your hand immediately flew to your mouth.

“Please tell me I didn’t just say that out loud.”

“You did.” Marge mouthed at you, trying but failing to contain her laughter

"So you enjoyed his performance as Geralt?" the producer pressed on, hoping to get more audience-raking answers

How many times were you going to blush during this interview?

"Oh, well, about that, I haven't really gotten around to actually watching it.” you admitted sheepishly, “But I've seen photos and some clips. Very impressed by what I've seen so far."

"You will watch it though, right?" 

"Oh, absolutely. No way I’d miss out on that! Henry Cavill is an incredibly wonderful, talented actor. I think he’s also a fan of the franchise so I have no doubt that he played Geralt to perfection as with all his other roles." you nodded solemnly, putting a hand to your heart

Everyone in the room with you caught on that you were gushing over the actor, the sly looks they all exchanged with one another were a dead giveaway. Too bad you didn’t notice before you could try and play it cool.

“Alright! I think it’s time for the next question!” you declared, swiftly plucking another question out of the jar

By the time it was all over, you had convinced yourself that your little crush-related blunder wasn’t even a big deal, it would probably just be a little footnote in that video. No biggie.

But, Jesus Christ were you wrong.

The video took a couple of weeks to edit and in that time, you were busier than ever. A movie you had just done was getting a lot of attention, your performance in particular had critics singing your praises. At that point, you were definitely getting noticed a lot more when you stepped out for coffee.

So, the timing was just perfect.

The second the video went live, your phone was going off non stop. Twitter mentions, Instagram tags, and articles. A few notable entries being:

“WATCH: RISING STAR Y/N Y/L/N GUSHES ABOUT HENRY CAVILL IN CHARMING BUZZFEED VIDEO”

“@geraskier-rights: Y/N Y/L/N REALLY SAID SHE’D TOSS ALL HER COINS TO HENRY CAVILL’S GERALT AND WE ALL KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS”

“@geralt-of-vengerberg: Y/N The Fond™ is showing👀👀👀”

Marge sat on your sofa with your phone in hand, absolutely thrilled while reading tweets out loud. You scheduled a panic session with her over lunch once everything blew up.

“Oh my God.” you groaned, massaging your temples. “Marge, what do I do?”

“About what?” she didn’t even bother to look up at you

You plopped yourself down next to her, laying your head in her lap, “All that. It’s everywhere.”

“And? There’s nothing wrong with it, they all think you’re charming and funny. A true Relatable Queen.”

Was it your sanity slipping through your fingers? Or the overpowering embarrassment? You had no idea but whatever it was, it had you laughing until your stomach hurt.

Marge tugged at your hair, “Get it together, bitch. Jeez.”

“What are you so worried about anyway?” she asked, placing your phone on your stomach

You swiped through your emails absentmindedly, “I’m not worried about anything, it’s just that what if…”

You left the words hanging in the air, you might as well have been dangling from a cliff from how much colour drained from your face.

“What if what?” 

Marge shoveled some pasta into her mouth before noticing that you essentially turned into a statue right next to her.

“Y/N!” she shook your arm with a grip you were sure would leave some bruises. “What’s the matter?”

Wordlessly, you passed your phone to her, the comment from a certain verified account displayed prominently on Buzzfeed’s Instagram post of a little snippet from your video, the “I’d toss all my coins to that Witcher” part, naturally.

“@henrycavill: Dear Y/N, how many coins are we talking about here? Let’s talk about my reward.”

It was all Marge could do to not throw your phone across the room. Her eyes went wide, following your every move as you paced back and forth, a thumbnail in your mouth.

“That did not just happen, I did not just see that right now. I didn’t.” you babbled, your heart beating thunderously in your chest

There it went. Your very own ticking time bomb finally went off. Number of casualties? Just one. You.

“Okay. Just calm down, Y/N.” Marge caught you mid-pace, squeezing your arms

“Maybe it was a fan account. Tell me it was a fan account, Marge. Henry Cavill did not just hear me imply what I implied.” you grasped at her hand with your clammy one

“Well if he has a fan account that’s verified and has fourteen point five million followers?”

“Oh god.” you groaned, sinking to the floor and hugging your knees

“Oh, Christ.”

Marge hauled you to your feet and thrust your phone in your hand. She looked you hard in the eye, “Stop your whining and answer him. You’re Y/N fucking Y/L/N, one of the hottest people on the planet, start acting like it.”

You stared at her, eyes wide. Your chest rose and fell rapidly. Marge’s words started to make sense in your mind and adrenaline started surging through your veins. You nodded fervently, psyching yourself up.

“Fuck yeah.” you breathed, clicking ‘Reply’

“@yourinstagram: @henrycavill I know you take orens, crowns, and florens but maybe we should discuss further?”

Before you could even stop yourself (did you even want to?), your fingers already landed on the blue paper plane.

“I did it.” you exhaled, staring as the likes and overly enthusiastic replies started pouring in

“Fuck yeah, you did. Now, come on. Leave your phone. We’re getting drunk.”

More weeks passed and you actually ended up forgetting about that little reply you left Henry Cavill. You were busier than ever. Guestings, endorsement deals, and awards shows left and right. So, when you finally had a couple of days free, you decided you would set up camp on your sofa and finally watch Henry Cavill as Geralt of Rivia.

You even threw on your Superman pyjamas, “What the hell.” you shrugged

If you were going down this road, you might as well do it right. Maybe you would even watch the Man from U.N.C.L.E after or would it be Night Hunter? The decision would have to wait.

You watched, absolutely riveted as the White Wolf battled against the kikimora, his silver sword hacked at the creature with unmatched expertise. You were only a few minutes in but you already knew you’d be stuck on that sofa for hours.

When the kikimora had Geralt pinned underwater with his trusty sword just beyond arm’s reach, you found yourself on the edge of your seat, one of your cushions in a chokehold.

“Come on, come on, come on.” you muttered as Geralt reached for his sword

You wouldn’t find out if he got it or not. A knock on your door literally made you fall off the sofa.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed, your hip was already smarting from the impact

Whoever that asshole was, you swore you were going to give him a piece of your mind. You stomped to your front door just as that idiot started knocking again.

You huffed and threw the door open then your mind immediately went blank.

“I am so sorry. Are you alright? I think I heard you fall?”

Oh yeah. You were definitely falling.

----------------------------------------------------------

You can find the second part here!

[ramblingguy54]

Sonic & Tails R: A Love Letter To Miles Tails Prower’s Characterization

     Warning: This will contain massive spoilers for the short radio play series of Sonic & Tails R. If you haven’t listened to the radio play yet on Youtube, I’d highly recommend any hardcore Sonic fan who hasn’t seen it check it out. It’s one Hell of a treat.

     For as far back as I can remember in my childhood, Tails’ story of trying to step outta Sonic’s shadow has been such a resonating one for myself. Even when I was a much younger kid playing my Dreamcast, during entries like Sonic Adventure 1 & 2, there was some idea lingering about why Tails just stood out more emotionally in his journey to grow beyond depending on Sonic all the time for help. Now here I am a young adult in my late twenties having such a deeper appreciation of this little two tailed genius kiddo because he’s got an important element that’s made him so beloved for good reason.

     In spite of his genius being a rival to that of Eggman’s high IQ and of course proving to surpass it plenty of times when scenarios boil down to being a high stakes battle, Miles Tails Prower beneath it all is still just like any one of us. We’re all trying to find our place in this world about what defines us for who we are as unique people. He wants to be more than just seen as someone who’s alongside Sonic The Hedgehog’s never say die attitude, but prove he’s plenty capable of standing on his own two feet to protect everything the kid holds dear to himself. Underdog stories, when they’re naturally executed very well, can reel me in so easily. They are very much my bread & butter trope I adore seeing.

     To no one’s surprise, the two Sonic Adventure’s iterations portrayal of Tails’ characterization are hands down some of my favorite writing for the two tailed fox, regarding what the 3D era has done toward him, development wise. It gave him more of an existential struggle to endure like, “What happens when Sonic isn’t around to help stop Eggman? What if I’m not strong enough to accomplish what he can?”, making Tails plight to be seen as an equal all the more endearing when stopping Eggman in his climatic battle against the Egg Walker in Station Square. This here is a great use of a timeless lesson you can apply in life that if you set you heart and mind on anything, there isn’t a thing you can’t accomplish on your own, which is why many fell in love with Sonic Adventure 1 & 2′s writing for Miles Tails Prower’s journey of independence.

     As someone who comes from a large family tree of relatives, I feel the weight of my existence on my shoulders at a number of points more than I’d care to count, admittedly. Seeing Tails struggle with his sense of purpose, in contrast to observing how much Sonic has accomplished with his carefree, yet deeply compassionate attitude, means the world to me in watching another trying to comprehend their value as a whole on how much they matter, overall. This is a big part of why my fondness for SA1 & 2′s quality has never wavered over these years, besides still obviously enjoying most of their game play mechanics. People can try to debate to their heart’s content on whether the Adventure games still hold up in their own eyes, but I’ll always respect them for how they tried to develop certain characters, such as Tails, Gamma, and Shadow The Hedgehog notably, to attempt expanding upon their characters, as well as world building.

     I won’t bother going into a rant about how Sonic’s recent 3D games have butchered Tails’ personality & relatable nature, due to the current writers in charge of handling the cast of characters. More or less, I greatly empathize toward the notion many have already stated about Tails being so cowardly and God forbid, looking at Lost World, downright severely mean spirited. Rather, I’m obviously writing this lengthy post to breakdown why Sonic & Tails R succeeds, where these certain 3D games have greatly faltered in exploring Tails’ emotional dilemmas as an insecure, yet still having the courage to prove himself, talented boy full of hidden potential he doesn’t quite realize, until his back is against the wall in life threatening situations.

“That day, I realized I couldn’t depend on you forever. Not that I can’t depend on you, but like, “What happens when Sonic isn’t here?”, you know?”

     Sonic & Tails R further delves into this fundamental rule of what has defined Tails in Sonic Adventure 1 & 2′s stories of events where Sonic wasn’t there to aid his best bud in taking down Eggman’s evil efforts for global domination, most importantly his fear of defending the Earth without his role model. Besides what I already stated in SA1′s events in Station where he stopped the Egg Walker, as well as the missile Eggman launched from detonating before their climatic battle, Tails watched Sonic blow up in ARK’s capsule presuming him to be dead after Sonic imparted how much faith he has in the kid’s abilities to be truly strong in the face of any foe. Sonic & Tails R manages to use fan service in a way that doesn’t feel like “pandering” for the sake of it, using this past canon material to do more of an in-depth study about Miles’ anxieties of existing without Sonic.

     Wouldn’t put it past them if EmuEmi & crew were using SA2′s Sonic death fake out scene in that space capsule to further add trauma to Tails’ psychological attachment to Sonic, as well as his insecurities of depending on him too much, to boot. While it’s never obviously outright stated in their radio play, I definitely believe they were factoring this element into adding dramatic exploration for why Tails is so self-conscious about the worst case scenario of permanently losing Sonic. Watching Sonic supposedly die put Tails into a deeper state of self-reflection, so I very much enjoyed how they went using these past events to create a thorough exploration about him learning just as it’s important to realize you need to stand up for yourself without using someone else as a crutch all the time, it’s doubly important to remember there’s nothing wrong about asking someone for help when you’re about to be down and out with little options left.

     Sonic & Tails R beautifully builds upon the foundation these two games’ stories left behind years ago, creating new damn great material to explore with the most iconic characters of this cast, Sonic & Tails brotherly dynamic. I’ve been praising Sonic & Tails R out the wazoo for how well it captured Tails underdog story of overcoming death defying odds, but it managed to remind me how simply adorable and outright wonderfully endearing their brotherly chemistry is as a whole. This is a big friendly reminder Sonic isn’t all about being cocky wise cracking character making meta jokes left and right, but he can be plenty capable of showing serious compassion to anyone he values as an ally and friend. This is no greater evident, than with him verbally lifting Tails up in his time of need when he’s self-depreciating his own significance. It can be seen in Episodes 2, 4, and 7 giving Tails motivational pieces of advice.

    Episode 2 In Adabat’s Cavern

-Sonic: Wasn’t it your radar that helped us find these Emerald shards in the first place? How could you be slowing us down when you’ve gotten us this far?

-Tails: But, I...

-Sonic: I could never make something like that. You’re the smartest person I know, Tails. One way or another, we’ll figure this out, count on it.

         Episode 4 In Holoska After Helping Silver Save The Chao

-Sonic: So, what was that back there? At the cave, in Adabat? -Tails: What do you mean? -Sonic: Frozen stiff. Confidence shot. It’s not like you. It was more than feeling like you were “slowing us down”, right?

        Episode 7 Inside The Egg Carrier 3

-Sonic: Let’s split up! I’ll distract them and you can go after the energy source. -Tails: You’re gonna take them on all by yourself!? Let me help, Sonic! -Sonic: No time for this, Tails. Stop overthinking and just go! If I can get their attention, I’ll take the heat off of you and that room you’re going to probably won’t have any security. Take this emerald and I’ll take the other one we have. It’ll lead me right to you after I beat these guys. -Tails: O-Okay... -Sonic: Hold on, Tails! Listen to me. Don’t stop moving and be careful. I’ll be fine and so will you!

     Sonic & Tails R remembers the most crucial detail of their important relationship. One isn’t better than the other and needing to always rely upon that notion for helping one outta a jam, but instead showcases how they’re equals as a team/bros. Sonic may be super fast and strong, however Tails has his intelligence to analyze situations in a different angle Sonic wouldn’t necessarily consider, per say. Which isn’t to say Tails couldn’t put up a fight either, as we’ve seen in SA1 & SA2′s stories where he faced Eggman one on one with no outside help to best him at his own game of wits & strength.

     We get see the apex of this idea through Tails facing Eggman in his super improved mecha walker. Although Tails may get thrown for a loop here at first by Eggman, it’s his villainous speech about winners and losers in their world that ironically does the exact opposite of what he intended. Eggman wanted to crush Tails’ sense of self worth before finishing him off, but all it did was reignite the very lesson Sonic told him earlier before running to distract Eggman’s robotic minions. That said lesson of he’s more than capable of facing dangerous threats

-Eggman: Poor boy. We all have to learn this lesson, sooner or later. In every game there’s no one you can depend on. You’re all alone and you’re either a winner, or a loser. And as you know, loser’s lose all of their lives. Say goodbye, fox!

-Tails: You’re wrong! I can depend Sonic! I won’t let him down! I can’t because...Because he’s depending on me! And because of that I won’t lose to you!

     This radio play strikes a good balance in utilizing the grey moral area about depending on someone vs it being an unhealthy display of attachment derived from serious insecurity. Word’s can’t begin to describe how much I loved this moment to pieces because it’s oh so important for writing Tails’ characterization. If you’re going to tackle him being super self conscious about his reliance on Sonic, then you gotta remember why they are so close to one another to begin with. Sonic & Tails have an unbreakable connection, considering they’ve brought out their best qualities in themselves from being together as individuals. For Sonic, it’s his older brother compassion to Tails to bring him outta feeling melancholy. For Tails, the kid finally understands there isn’t anything wrong with depending on Sonic when he needs it most.

     After all, that’s what a real healthy friendship is all about. Whether you’re giving someone a dose of tough love, or simply a piece of motivational advice, it defines how much you truly care about someone, period. Sonic & Tails have this very same power from their bond, which is why new emeralds form from their compassionate friendship that hasn’t been shaken after all the years they’ve been together. Another detail worth noting is it adds to the lore in an impactful manner when Tikal expresses in Episode 8 about positive connections and thoughts from users of the Chaos Emeralds having a strong will & heart. Using the ideas they had for encapsulating Sonic & Tails’ dynamic to create new emeralds from their love for each other as brothers adds an emotional weight.

“So, Sonic’s not the only one who harness the power of the Chaos Emeralds? I can too!?”

“Yes, you have a strong heart! There is a power waiting to be unlocked within you, as well.”

          I’d always daydreamed about in my childhood seeing Super Sonic & Tails take down a threatening villain, whether it was Eggman or different powerful creature such as Chaos or the Biolizard. You can imagine how fucking giddy I was beyond belief to see this artwork of Episode 9′s cover for the radio play. Tails not only got to have another one on one with Eggman, but a team up with Super Sonic in his own respective Super form? Sign me the Hell up! Talk about an all you eat buffet of good writing for Tails’ journey reaching its climax. Getting to hear this play out, alongside the amazing song of Fly With Me, made it authentically feel like something straight outta if there were an installment of Sonic Adventure 3 being brought into reality, which certainly feels like it now.

     Episode 9 has so much awesome stuff with Sonic & Tails working together in their super forms. Particularly, my favorite scene is at the beginning when Sonic teaches Tails how to navigate his newly acquired speed in his respective Super form. My heart melted hearing Sonic help Tails through it all, while he was overjoyed about how fun this new form is for himself. Wholesome Sonic & Tails content is the perfect daily serotonin for me, easily. It’s an awesome fun fact to know they used a scrapped boss from Tails Tornado segment in SA1 for Eggman’s flying dragon three headed robot in their big final battle, once again using old canon material in a very effective manner to boost the quality of their fan made story.

     It’s been a real thrill to hear Mike Pollock play a straight forward serious Eggman making my day in more ways than one, considering that’s another thing I’ve been yearning for desperately besides Tails being a competent character again. His performance in Episode 9 when Eggman gave that speech about how long he’s been at odds with Sonic & Tails stubborn will power was simply excellent. The moment he told his mechanical dragon to crush them I got serious chills. That’s the Eggman I remember and grew up with. He could be a hammy villain sure, but Eggman wasn’t a doormat that could be swiftly beaten. Robotnik can be considered a serious threat in his own right and this radio play nailed it down to the very letter with how much he predicted their actions.

“Sonic, all I ever wanted to do was be like you. You’re not scared of anyone or anything. I could never be like that. At least, so I thought. I grew from that, but then I got so caught up in trying to prove it that thought it wasn’t okay to depend upon anyone, especially you. I just didn’t want to be that scared little kid in Station Square anymore, but now I understand. It’s okay to depend on your friends. It all means is that we’re stronger together, so the next time Eggman comes back and wants to start any trouble with you, or any of my friends. Emeralds or no emeralds, he’s gonna have to get past me and he won’t!”

Sonic By Episode 1′s End: Aww, yeah! Adventure, here we come!

Tails By Episode 10′s End: Aww, yeah! Adventure, here I come!

Turn your thoughts into power. Be all that you can be.

     The ending legit got me choked up because what of they decided to do for wrapping up Tails journey in a poetic fashion. Having Tails go off on his own separate journey to grow more independence pulled on my heart strings perfectly. Very much so, as I’m transitioning slowly, but surely, into gaining more freedom to go out into the outside world in my own life. Concluding the story, by Sonic & Tails holding onto the two Emeralds their bond had formed from positive energy, due to their powerful friendship, was so heartwarming. This is how you write an overview of what makes Sonic & Tails chemistry work so well as it does.

     Sonic & Tails R’s ending represents while some things never change, like Sonic and Tails bond for each other, it also shows there’s very much a necessity for people to grow, hence Tails’ whole solo journey in the epilogue. People can’t stay in the same place forever and will need go about finding their own path, even if it means saying “goodbye” periodically for a notable amount of time.

     It’s for these reasons I’ve listed in great explanation above throughout this detailed post cement Sonic & Tails R high on my list of favorite Sonic fan projects. They captured the magic of what made the Adventure games so beloved. Gonna be looking back on this passion project for many years to come. Everyone involved in this year long effort of a project dating all the way back Summer of 2020 ought to be immensely proud for how much their hard efforts paid off in the long run.

Thanks for taking the time to read my thoughts here! 

Hope you enjoyed. 

[greyskyflowers]

One Piece: Marco/Ace ft BDSM AU that works slightly like real life and slightly like fantasy

Dominant or dominant leaning switches prefering things that allow them a certain measure of control. An almost at times primal instinct to avoid being weak or dependent on someone else. Prone to outbursts or anger issues if they aren't able to give into their desires on a semi regular basis. Most dominants are not power hungry, although some are. Most just prefer to be self sufficient, or find a place where they feel respected.

Submissive or submissive leaning switches are more comfortable with not always being in charge. A higher risk of anxiety and depression if they aren't able to give into those desires on a semi regular basis. The amount depends on the person but just because they might be able to go long periods without it doesn't mean it's healthy. Submissives are not weak, although some are. They just get comfort and relax through different ways. Most do just fine with a steady partner or bonded that can help them settle when needed.

I want to stress that not all dynamics have to be sexual. Platonic bdsm is totally normal and Marco is the only one Ace does more with.

I think in this AU that most submissives would have been captured for slaves or killed. There are of course ones that are free and happy but it's not super common unfortunately. Think like mermaids? If one is caught, they usually end up somewhere for sale or worse.

That stems from a combination of superstitions that submissives at sea were bad luck and the greed of those with power and wealth.

Ace saying a huge fuck you to everyone and everything when he sets out to sea. The thin, black collar that is used to mark an unclaimed submissive around his neck like a badge of honor.

No shame on his face when the marines take the info and run with it. Offering a huge reward for the submissive daring to spit in their face and challenge them.

Slowly a crew forming under him, respecting him because of who he is and not in spite of it.

The whitebeard pirates still wanting him to join but having no idea how to really treat him. Not many crews have experience with submissives, especially unmated ones.

The first one to try to anything immediately regretting the decision and making it clear what Ace expected from them.

Nothing.

But as he stays on their ship, eventually accepting their mark and joing the family, he slowly settles.

Letting his shoulders relax, no longer bunched up in an attempt to help cover this neck.

People slinging their arms around his shoulders would no longer result in near death.

The way the prettiest blush spreads over freckled cheeks and how he ducks his head when he gets genuinely praised or dotted on.

He lets them come up behind him, turns his back to them without letting his flames lick up his spine in warning.

The first time he bares his neck without immediately guarding it again was sitting beside the rail after a tough fight, resting his head back on it. Skin slick with sweat and blood splattered like paint across his throat. Everyone pausing for a minute because this was huge. The best thing he could offer them really. A sign of trust and care that surpassed even him getting the tattoo. With his eyes closed and catching his breath, he was as relaxed as he could be and completely settled in their presence.

And that sets off a series of events.

Ace being more affectionate with the whole crew. The commanders especially slowly being drawn in by Ace.

Small things at first like Ace letting them touch him more and then bigger things.

The first time he went to Marco after a battle, wanting comfort and craving submission after having lost some of his division, had ended in a fiery miscommunication.

After lots of yelling, avoidance, and fear that Ace was going to turn back into the angry mess he used to be, things were explained and discussed.

Ace usually going to Marco when he needed something but also letting the other commanders in as well.

Letting Thatch hand feeding him when he comes back several pounds lighter after long missions. The action helping to settle the desire to care for with Thatch and the desire to be cared for with Ace.

Vista sparing with him and pinning him in a way that makes Ace completely limp. Body going loose with happiness at the weight and feeling safe under the other man's bulk.

Izo making Ace keep still while he does his make up. Giving soft praises as Ace listens to him and Izo carefully applies the make up. Sky grey eyes hazy when they open up later, black kohl lining them and Izo know this will be a more regular occurrence. Especially when the others see.

But Marco is the one Ace keeps going to.

The one he lets at his neck without hesitation. Calloused fingers and wide palms pressing against the most vulnerable area he has.

The one he goes to when his skin is too tight and too loose somehow at the same time. The wild, hateful thing in him rearing its head and he gets all tangled in it.

The one he climbs into bed with. Slipping under a heavy arm and curling up with happiness against a warm body.

The one he eventually lets run fingers under the old black collar and take it off. Skin pale like snow where the collar had rested for years before being cover in something personal.

A soft, beautiful thing that makes Ace feel spoiled. Indigo blue and Whitebeards mark threaded small in the back. Phoenix carefully stitched on the inside and against his skin.